


Kin of the Soul

by LitGal



Series: The Kin Series [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 15:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 65
Words: 273,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2434280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LitGal/pseuds/LitGal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school is out, and Xander is struggling to find his path--first in Sunnydale and then in L.A. And the whole time, Angel is waiting in the wings and the PTB are lurking in the shadows</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

Xander opened his eyes, closed them, and then blinked several times as fast as he could. Yeah, like that ever worked. Funny enough, all the freakish and hellmouthy things in his life didn't really care how fast he blinked, although it did amuse Spike. And then Spike and Angel would kill whatever was freaking Xander out, but there was definitely a lack of vampires in this scene.

"Um, Commander, I'm guessing he's not one of us," the blond one said, and Xander refused to even allow himself to think the name. This wasn't possible. Nope, not possible. Not happening, and if he just ignored it, it would all just go away.

"Paris, call the captain," Chakotay ordered. Oh yeah, that was definitely Chakotay, and Paris was definitely Paris and not some random blond guy. And Xander was standing in the middle of the Voyager bridge in his yellow pajamas with a guy pointing a phaser at him. Either he was having the most realistic dream of his life, or he'd just had a total break with reality. Odds were running fifty-fifty.

"Yes, sir," Paris agreed, tapping on that stupid table desk thing as he sat in the chair that always made Xander wonder what science fiction writers had against seat belts. As the recipient of many head traumas, he could say from experience that they were not fun. Nope, no fun at all. Hey, maybe he'd had another head trauma. That would explain the major weirdness.

Chakotay took a firm step closer, holding a hand out to the side to keep the ensign from shooting. "I'm Commander Chakotay of the Starship Voyager. And you are?" he asked Xander, and Xander opened his mouth without anything actually coming out. Giving up on words, he reached up and pinched his arm.

"Ow," he whispered to himself. Chakotay looked over at Paris with that same expression Angel had on his face a whole lot of the time... the look that said he totally did not understand what was going on.

"Perhaps it is deficient," Seven of Nine suggested. She stalked closer with that predator's gait and skin-tight suit that made Xander think naughty thoughts. Lots and lots of naughty thoughts--like what would happen if Seven of Nine, Buffy, and Faith all ended up in the same mud pit. Not that he thought about Faith like that. Much. Since she was technically the only person he'd ever had sex with--and since the sex had been remarkably not bad--his penis did tend to think about her, even when he was definitely not thinking about her. Only now, his penis was way more interested in thinking about Seven of Nine.

"Seven, stand down," Chakotay ordered.

"Come on Chak, let her have a little fun." Paris stood up and went over to lean against Chakotay, and Xander's eyebrows went all the way to the top. He so did not remember this episode. Paris rested his palm against Chakotay's chest, and Chakotay got this indulgent expression on his face as he looked at Paris fondly, and Xander knew THAT had never happened in the show.

"I should inspect him for weapons or deficiencies," Seven announced grandly, and then she was there with hands reaching everywhere. Her hand stroked up his sides before fingers slipped under his shirt and traced across his stomach. The Borg implants on her fingertips made him shiver. One of her eyebrows rose, and then her Borg hand darted down the front of his pajama bottoms.

"Hey now, that is inappropriate touching," Xander objected.

"I am checking you for weapons," she declared archly, her fingers wrapping around his cock so that Xander made a slightly unmanly squeak and grabbed her shoulders to keep from falling over. Oh yeah, Xander Jr. was totally into this fantasy. If this was some head-trauma induced fantasy, he was going to throw himself into way more headstones.

"That's not a weapon," Xander panted.

"We shall see," Seven said, and again that eyebrow rose.

"Okay, this is... this is way more real than my usual wet dream."

Paris laughed. "If this is a dream, do you mind dreaming us back home? I'm getting sick of Neelix's cooking."

"This isn't a dream," Chakotay said firmly. "And aren't you supposed to be piloting? There's time for this later, get your attention focused on your work Tom." Chakotay slapped Paris on the ass, and Paris gave Chakotay a look that Spike would have been proud of.

"This is officially freaky," Xander whispered to himself. "Freaky enough that I really think I need to wake up." He slapped himself hard across the face. The heat and sting made his one eye water.

"Hey, if you're into a little violence with your sex, I can help you with that," B'Elanna appeared out of nowhere, and Xander retreated fast enough that he slammed his hip into the computer panel. And damn that thing was hard.

"No, no violence with the sex. Me and Klingons are definitely on the no list," Xander babbled, holding both hands up in surrender as he tried to back up. He found his retreat blocked by Seven of Nine who snaked an arm around his waist and pulled him close to her body. His poor cock was getting all kinds of excited now, but his brain was definitely putting up warning signs. Unfortunately, the sight of hot women pretty much vetoed any rational thoughts.

"How do you know she's Klingon?" Chakotay demanded. Now he just looked angry.

"Report!" Captain Janeway strode onto the bridge, and why had Xander never noticed just how many scary women were on this ship? Of course, he'd never before been trapped between two of them with the third staring at him. A little scary... something along the lines of Cordelia or Faith... that was hot. Right now, even his cock was starting to think there were way too many scary women in the room. No wonder Paris and Chakotay had retreated to a nice safe homosexual corner of this universe. Xander's cock was starting to think about a strategic retreat.

"We have an unexpected visitor who just appeared on the bridge," Chakotay offered in a tone that was all military. Paris turned around to face front, but he had a wide smirk on his face.

"I believe he is deficient, but he is unarmed," Seven declared, her hands slipping under the elastic of his pajama bottoms.

"Hey, I resemble that remark, and trust me, I've been called deficient by way better than you," Xander complained as he shoved at her hands. It was a little like trying to shove Spike away, not that Spike ever grabbed his cock in one hand and reached down for his balls with the other. Oh, he offered, but there was definitely no Spike touchage. "And this is a dream. This is a dream or a hallucination. I just need to make myself wake up." Xander closed his eyes tightly. "Wake up wake up wake up."

He gasped and then found himself sitting up even though he didn't remember ever having laid down. And the weird just kept right on coming. Xander was sitting in a pile of red and gold pillows in front of a huge fireplace flanked by two statues of gold cats with diamond eyes. None of the lights were on, so the fire cast flickers around the room.

"Darling, you're awake," a voice purred. Xander twisted around and nearly swallowed his tongue as a woman in a tight black outfit sashayed toward him, black cat ears sticking up through her thick, auburn hair. Oh yeah, he remembered this. He used to watch old Batman reruns with Jesse and drool all over Catwoman. And she was just as drool-worthy now. She made an umming noise deep in her throat as she knelt next to him, handing him a glass of wine. "After that ridiculous prank of the Joker's, all of Gotham is blacked out. We'll have to make our own warmth."

"Um... I have absolutely nothing that I can say that doesn't make me sound crazy," Xander said. He took the wine and stared at it. This... whatever this was... went way past dreamland.

She laughed wildly, her fingers trailing up and tangling in his hair. "You are so delightfully unassuming, darling. I am so glad I traded in one do-gooder for another." A white cat ran over Xander's legs and then disappeared into the shadows.

"Okay, this... this is so not happening." Xander pushed her hands away and scooted backwards.

She cocked her head to the side and made a little whine in her throat. "Oh Xander, you know better than to make me angry." She opened her mouth and made a little rowr sound.

"Angel!!" Xander bellowed. That made Catwoman sit back, her eyes wide with surprise.

Xander scrambled to his feet and managed to drop his wine glass along the way. "ANGEL! Angel, where are you? I'm losing my mind here!" He backed up to the window, and he could see the dark city below him. It was hard to tell with the blackout, but that definitely looked like Gotham.

"Xander, are you unwell?" Catwoman asked.

"Oh, I am unwell like you would not believe. Angel!!! Angel, I'm losing my mind here!" Xander screamed at the top of his lungs, and two guys in yellow and black tiger striped shirts burst through the really garish, gilded double doors. They hurried to Catwoman's side, and now she looked outright concerned.

"Xander?"

"Nope. No, you are not even you. You are a television show, and I am losing my mind. Angel!!" Xander screamed as loud as he could, and Catwoman, her henchmen, and her scary-ugly bedroom shimmered and vanished into a sort of bland grayness. Xander spun around, but there was just a big old nothing in every direction.

"I'll have you know that I worked very hard on this wish. You are totally inconsiderate." Xander spun around again and found himself face to face with a demon. An unhappy demon. An unhappy girl demon, and this was not looking good. Blue veins and heavy wrinkles and folds covered a face that otherwise looked pretty humanish.

"Um, I'm sorry," Xander offered, not exactly sure what he was apologizing for, but he'd gotten used to that with Spike. Demons had all these weird rules in their brains, so you just had to apologize.

"You should be," she said firmly.

"And I'm perfectly willing to be even more sorry, only can you please explain what's going on?" Xander asked, doing his best to sound respectfully requesting instead of bossy or commanding or frustrated—all of which tended to not go over well with demons.

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him for a second. "I'm trying to give you love and happiness. This is not the kind of wish I usually do, so don't start thinking that I'm not good at my job. I'm great at my job. I can make a man's penis shrivel to the size of a Q-tip. I can make flesh fall off bones. I can turn a man into a gibbering idiot who drools on himself for the rest of his life."

From the intense expression on her face, Xander was guessing that she wasn't even kidding. "Impressive resume," he said with a weak smile. She looked at him with suspicion. "No, seriously. I mean, I know this vampire who loves to brag about his torture techniques, and he's never described anything that creeps me out as much as the penis shriveling, although the flesh falling off comes a close second. Heck, Spike and his railroad spikes just got bumped to third in my list of things I never, ever want to experience."

The demon nodded and actually managed to look a little happier. "Exactly. I am the best at what I do. A vampire certainly does not have the experience or the creativity to touch me."

"And what exactly do you do because if the plan was for penis shriveling, I'm hoping there's some sort of deal we can make."

"I do not make deals," she informed him primly. "I am Anyanka, vengeance demon and patron of scorned women. I've had men offer me jewels, wealth, power. I do not take bribes."

"Oh shit." Xander closed his eyes and sent up a quick prayer. Then he sent up a second and third one. He was so seriously in deep shit that he needed all the help he could get. "Cordelia," he sighed. "I swear, I did not mean to do anything to hurt her. I wouldn't ever—"

"Oh please," Anyanka waved her hand dismissively. "You let her publicly humiliate you. That is more class than most men show. Even if she called on me, I don't think I would have bothered with her because there are men out there far more deserving of my torture. Your mother called me."

"Mom?" Xander really wished Anyanka would bring back one of the fantasy rooms because he so needed to sit down. His head was spinning and reality was moving way too fast for him to keep up. "My mom called for vengeance on me?"

"No." Anyanka sounded really frustrated now. "She earned vengeance against your father. I offered to make your father's balls fall off or shrivel up into peas, or give him a good case of leprosy, but she insisted that her only wish was for you to find happiness with someone. So, I'm trying to find someone for you to be happy with. Now, I don't have all day, so you need to get with the program and start being happy." Anyanka touched her necklace and the two realities appeared on either side of them like ghost images floating in a fog.

On one side, Seven of Nine was pressed up against his back, B'Elanna standing in front of him with a predatory look on her face, and Paris looked like he was about to go pop some popcorn so he could enjoy the show. It was weird looking at a ghost image of himself with this look on his face like he was caught between shock and lust. It was a weird look on him. In the other scene, Catwoman was just starting to walk toward him, a whip hanging from her hip and her henchmen on either side. In that one, Xander looked way more alarmed, but from the way Catwoman's hand hovered over the whip, he had a right to be a little alarmed. "Pick one," Anyanka finally said impatiently.

"What? Why?"

"Because I pulled these from your mind. It's your mother's wish, but this is where you go to be happy, so go be happy in one."

"Wait... my mind? You're wandering around in my mind? Way with the creepy."

She rolled her eyes, and suddenly she transformed into an attractive woman with light brown hair and truly stunning eyes that were brown with just a touch of gold to them. "Like I care what a human is thinking about." She gave him a look that made it clear she thought he was stupid, but it was one of those looks where the person thinks you're cute-stupid. "I just need to get this wish finished."

"By making me happy?" Xander asked, just trying to make sure he'd actually heard this right.

"By making sure you're with the right person to make you happy. Your mother doesn't want you getting screwed by love the way your father screwed her. And can I just say that your father is a real bucket of slime? I've met chaos mages and slime demons I've liked more than that man."

"Hey, I know mass murders and demons that I not only like more, but that I trust more than him. He sold me," Xander quickly pointed out. "That was enough to drive me into therapy, so don't look for me to go defending the family honor here."

"I may shrivel his genitals just on principle."

"Go for it, only, can we not talk about it, because parents and genitals really should not ever be said in the same sentence." Xander made a disgusted face as he tried to wipe that image out of his mind. Anyanka gave him another of those fond-idiot looks.

"So, which world are you going to pick? I need to recycle the other one. I have other wishes I need to get to."

"Is there a door number three?" Xander asked hopefully.

"Do you want Faith?" Anyanka asked, and that was actually a serious look on her face.

"What?! No! I mean... no. She has issues, and her issues are way more issuey around me, and then her issues spill over into my issues, and the breeding of issues is very bad for all involved."

Anyanka was already nodding. "I got that from your memories. Like all men, you're weak when you masturbate, but at least you don't have those really gross fantasies where you think everyone else exists only to service your penis. Her needs have nothing to do with your penis. So, that leaves Seven of Nine, B'Elanna, and Catwoman. B'Elanna is the most attractive. I like her forehead. And she kills well, that's always a plus in a mate. But then Catwoman and Seven of Nine are good at killing, too. You have good taste in women."

For a second, Xander wasn't really sure what to say, because getting complimented on his taste in women by a demon was probably not good. It was about as disturbing as... well, as the rest of his life.

"Okay, as much as I have to admit that all of these women are incredibly hot. Seriously hot," Xander admitted as he looked around at the frozen scenes, "this isn't exactly the 'ever after' kind of relationship. This is more the 'giving the brain something to think about while the hand is doing its thing' kind of relationship."

Anyanka frowned at him. "I granted a wish. You have to be happy with someone."

"Hey, I'm happy now," Xander pointed out.

"You're happy with your hand. Your hand does not count as someone. And I will not have a failed wish on my record. That sort of thing can give you a reputation, you know. Eleven hundred years and I don't have a failed wish on my record, and I am not starting with you." She had her poking, pointing finger going now. "So, if you don't want forever with any of these women, we just start over."

The scenes faded into the fog, and suddenly Xander found himself at the center of three new images. In one, Chakotay was reaching out for him. Xander was dressed in an ensign's uniform, but from the look on Chakotay's face, he wasn't going to be wearing it for long. The second scene showed him standing on the bridge of the ship from V, and Diana the reptilian invader had her hand up his shirt. The third scene showed the Knight Rider guy pinning him up against a car.

"Hey, no, no, that is not right," Xander pointed at the Knight Rider scene.

Anyanka patted him on the arm. "Oh please. If you don't want a woman, then we have to find you a nice man or non-human. You know you had that fantasy about Michael Knight, and he's not that bad. He tried to get revenge on people who do wrong, and I like that." She nodded as if approving of him and Michael Knight doing it on the hood of the car, and that was from so far back in the denial box that Xander couldn't even bring himself to look at it. Nope, he was firmly focusing on Diana. At least she looked like a curvy woman... who ate people. And oddly, she wouldn't even be his first date to try and eat him.

"You do know this is not going to end well. I'm a mammal, she's a reptile. She's so going to eat me," Xander pointed out.

Anyanka tilted her head to the side. "She could make you happy until she ate you. It's not like she'd be your only relationship where the other person considered you a food group."

"And way to go with the disturbing," Xander sighed.

"I have other wishes to get to. I've provided five perfectly good scenarios, so why don't you pick one so that I can get on with the making you happy in love?"

"I'm just supposed to pick one?"

"Hey, I don't normally give options here. This was supposed to be a quick wishverse with you and B'Elanna and Seven of Nine having sex all over the Voyager, so you should be grateful that I made a housecall at all. Options... well, let me tell you, you will not find a whole lot of people I've given options to. Although there was the one man who I tied so that this sword was caught between his penis and his balls, and he had the option to cut off one or the other or starve to death. That was a good wish." She smiled, and even with her pretty, human face on, that was not a pretty expression.

"Creative," Xander said weakly.

She smiled brightly at him. "I was very proud of it. His wife wished that he had to make hard choices, the same way he'd forced her to choose between public humiliation and poverty. She was very satisfied."

"I bet." Xander swallowed and tried to figure out how he was going to get out of this one.

"I'm very good at my job," Anyanka told him proudly.

"So, you want to make sure that the wish really works out. I mean, if my mother wants me happy with someone and I'm in this fantasy that gets boring, that would be bad, right?" Xander asked.

Anyanka frowned for a second. "You do have a lot of experience with excitement. But Voyager is in the middle of hostile space. There are lots of chances for you to get taken over by Borg or eaten by an alien virus." And boy didn't she just sound cheerful about that.

"Yeah, but I'll know it's not real, not like my life is real," Xander pointed out. "I won't be fighting to keep people I love safe. And I won't have a chance to make a real connection with someone in my world."

That seemed to make her think. "You aren't connecting with someone now."

"Only because I've been getting over Cordelia. I feel things deeply. I don't want to just go rushing into a relationship with the girl who serves coffee on the corner."

Anyanka frowned at him. "She's boring, and small. She is not right. Seven of Nine is far better for you."

"But I'll know it's not really Seven of Nine."

"I could wipe your memories."

"And then it wouldn't really be me, and since my mom wants *me* happy, that wouldn't really make the wish true, would it?"

"Oh please, I've screwed with people way more than that." She touched her necklace again and all the scenes vanished so that they were again standing in the middle of gray.

"You're 1100 years old, right?" Xander tried a new tactic.

"Yes??" She drew the word out, hissing it dangerously.

"Then giving me a little time to get my head screwed on straight is not such a big deal. I mean, you're pulling out heroes and villains, guys and girls, humans and non-humans. Face it, you can't give me the perfect partner because I'm so screwed up in the head I don't know what I want." Xander gave her his best pleading expression.

"Huh." She stared at him. "It is a strange set of fantasies."

"That's me, strange to the end. And if my mother's wish is for me to be truly happy with someone, well, you can't be expected to pick someone who would make me happy if I can't figure it out for myself."

"But I need to finish the wish," Anyanka said with a frown.

"And I would not want to ruin your record, but if you gave me a little time, I could work through some issues, maybe come to a better understanding of what I want in a partner." Xander tried really, really hard to not think about the fact that all he wanted to do was get back to his apartment so he could go running to Angel. Yep, he was going to hide behind Angel until he was ninety and his cock no longer worked. Anyanka frowned at him, and terror swept through Xander as he realized he was thinking about what he didn't want to think about and she could read his mind.

"A month," she said.

Xander snorted. She glared at him, and he put on his most polite smile. "Hey, it took me two years of therapy to work through my dad issues. I think it's going to take that long to work through any sexual identity issues."

She frowned again and her veins and wrinkles reappeared as she became a demon again. "One year. One year and I'll be back to finish your mother's wish."

Xander opened his mouth to argue, but he was suddenly standing in the middle of his bedroom. Slowly, he turned and tried to figure out what had just happened. The red numbers on his alarm clock read 4:56 am. His VCR was blinking 12:00. His soda bottle and cake plate were on the table next to his bed. It looked just like when he'd gone to bed. Xander walked over to the bed and sank down, weariness and terror both still pulling on him.

"Oh yeah, and I thought my life would get less weird after high school," Xander said to the air. Grabbing his robe off the floor, Xander headed for Angel's apartment. If it had been a nightmare, at least he could torture Angel by making him listen to the story... or the story with Michael Knight edited out, anyway. If Anyanka really did exist, they obviously had a problem. Xander really did not look forward to spending the rest of his life dodging Borg and alien viruses. And with his luck, he'd get infected by both within a week of being in the Delta Quadrant.


	2. 2

Angel could feel the arms of the chair groaning under his grip, but he still couldn't get himself to let go. No wonder Xander was always having to fix things.

"Bloody hell, pet. You really are a demon magnet." Spike's words might have been teasing, but he was bouncing on his toes, which usually meant that violence was on the horizon. Spike's ability to control his demon might go far beyond most vampires, but he had limits, and the idea of a vengeance demon targeting their clan was beyond Spike's ability to control himself. Even now, his eyes flashed yellow.

"Hey, this is so not my fault." Xander was sitting on the couch, his head propped on the back while he stared at the ceiling. "Although the demon magnetness is way too unjokelike to be funny. And as someone who normally is all about laughing at the brutal truth of life, that's really saying something."

"Can't believe your mum--"

"Hey, there will be no blaming of the one decent parental unit I have," Xander said, cutting Spike off and tipping his head far enough to glare at him. For a second, Spike glared back, and Angel imagined that vampire instincts were pushing Spike to put Xander in his place, to remind him that he wasn't high enough in the hierarchy to tell Spike what to do. Angel tensed, fully prepared to act if Spike lost control. At this point, Angel could hardly blame Spike if he lost control because even with the soul, Angel was feeling pretty close to an edge himself. Their clan, their family, had been targeted by a dangerous demon who was threatening to take Xander away from them.

"Decent," Spike snorted. He threw himself back against the wall so hard that Angel could feel the floor vibrate with the force of the impact.

"She gave up a chance to make my father miserable just to wish me happy, that's actually..." Xander stopped and frowned. "That's actually making me feel way with the guilty about the lack of mother time lately. You'd think I'd have more time after graduating, not less."

Spike snorted again, making his opinion on the matter clear. But then, Spike wasn't the best at forgiving or forgetting. Angel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and gripping his hands together to avoid hitting something. He wasn't all that better, but for Xander's sake, he would keep his doubts to himself.

"I mean, I haven't been over since I helped her move to the apartment, how shitty is that? I've officially entered bad-son-land and set up residence."

"You've had classes, you've been helping train Riley, and you've been patrolling to give Buffy time to study. You're a little busy," Angel disagreed. Compared to the problem with their vengeance demon, Jessica Harris' issues were unimportant. He looked up and Spike was staring at him. Angel gave the smallest of nods. If Spike could find Anyanka, Spike had Angel's permission to rip the demon's head off and spit down her throat.

"It could have been a dream," Xander said with a lot of hope and not much confidence.

"Not bloody likely." Spike started pacing. "Could try and pair ya up with someone before the bint comes back."

This time it was Xander who snorted. "One, there's a lack of pairablility around here, and two, this is me. Me and love are like..." Xander's words failed him. "I'm not the sort to get the big romance. I'm more the type to hide in a closet or throw down on a hill." Xander's voice sounded so lost, so desperate, that Angel barely controlled a growl, and Spike flashed into full gameface. Angel was just grateful that Spike considered both women clan members or he'd have to worry about chunks of them washing up on shore. And that was the problem with letting Xander date anyone. If someone Angel's hadn't scent marked ever hurt Xander, Angel had no doubt that Spike would choose a long and painful death for them. Torture in the family was one thing, but torture from outside the family was not going to be tolerated.

Angel sighed, wondering when they'd fallen into the old patterns with him as the patriarch and Spike acting as enforcer. Oddly, his attempts to find his humanity through Xander seemed to have backfired a bit because he was also closer to his vampire self. Of course, that thought led him to wonder what exactly he'd been for all those years of wandering alleys eating rats. He hadn't been human or vampire, and he could see that now. But was it his human soul's love for Xander or his vampire rage at having his clan targeted that was driving the anger he could feel right now? If an innocent human was standing between him and Anyanka, Angel wasn't sure what he would do.

"You're a right treat, pet. I wouldn't mind takin' you in hand." Spike wiggled his eyebrows and stalked the couch, his body rolling in sinuous moves that made Angel's cock harden. He had grown entirely too close to his vampire nature, but at least he was leaning forward so Xander wouldn't notice. Spike, however, sniffed the air and looked over with a knowing smirk before turning his attention back to Xander. "I wouldn't mind at all." Standing behind the couch, Spike ran his hands over Xander's shoulders and down his chest.

"So not the time, Spike," Xander sighed.

"Oi, you're ruinin' the mood here, pet," Spike complained, but he leaped the back of the couch and dropped down next to Xander. "Keep it up, and you're going to make me think I'm not irresistible."

Xander reached over and patted Spike's leg. "Oh great god sexual prowess, I am in awe of your powers and way too freaked out to actually show my appreciation for your godly powers. Forgive me."

"Pillock."

"Bleach-head."

"Demon magnet."

"Way more than anyone should be," Xander agreed with a sigh. Spike looked at Angel, and Angel could feel the frustration building up. Usually Spike could distract the boy out of his moods.

"There's that bint in Finn's unit. Saunders." Spike sniffed, stretched and thunked his boots down on Angel's coffee table. His body radiated disapproval. Angel watched his boys, wondering when Spike had become so reasonable and when Xander had become so very used to discussions that were more about demonic instincts than human emotion.

"Wait, you want me to sleep with one of Riley's soldiers? Um, newsflash, you're not okay with me doing that as the whole disaster with Faith and Graham so totally proved. Unless you're lying and you really were just big with the jealous." Xander crossed his arms and glared at Spike.

"I'm not jealous," Spike snarled. Angel rolled his eyes. Spike was the most jealous and possessive vampire he'd ever met, but considering what Angel had done to him as a fledge, Angel could hardly blame him.

"Spike, would you want Xander to date Saunders if Saunders stayed in Riley's unit?" Angel asked. He knew exactly where Spike was going, but Xander obviously needed a little push. Spike looked over at him and frowned, like Angel had just lost his mind.

"Bloody hell no. Tell Finn to hand her over, and then have 'em date. She's a tough enough bird to keep Xander's interest. No offense, pet, but your taste in women in downright terrifying. Hell, I might have to turn her just to make her woman enough for ya."

"What?" Xander squeaked the word and just about flew off the couch. "No. No and more with the no. There will be no turning of people, and do you really think we can just walk up and say, 'Hey, Riley, we're confiscating one of your people'?"

"Well, yeah." Spike tilted his head the way he did when Xander said something particularly stupid. Angel just smiled and leaned back, watching as Xander's brain finally twisted itself around Spike's words. Spike didn't want him to date; Spike wanted to kidnap someone and just order them into Xander's bed. It was an easy and elegant solution for a vampire.

"Okay, way to go with the creepy. I am so glad I don't have a little sister because I would never let you in the same state with her." Xander threw himself back down on the couch.

"Wot?"

"Okay, the sad and creepy thing is that you don't know." Xander sighed.

Angel cleared his throat. "The first goal here is to find out more about this Anyanka. Since Xander's mother made the wish, there may be a way for her to unmake the wish."

"If you can get her to remember and/or believe that she actually met a demon. Sunnydale blindness runs strong in my family. It's sort of the opposite of having the force. It's like we have the anti-force so that we're extra special clueless when Darth Vader comes creeping around."

Angel nodded. Sadly, she really might not remember. "We can go to Giles and see if his books have any information on vengeance demons, and if we need to, we can go to L.A. Lorne usually has some good sources on anything demonic."

"Until then, I say we sit on him," Spike suggested, reaching out to pull Xander close. Angel wondered if Xander had any idea how serious Spike had been about taking Xander into his bed. He'd already asked permission and even made a few outrageous promises and bribes trying to get Angel to give him that permission. But if Xander knew, he sure wouldn't be comfortable doing what he was doing now. Spike had tugged a little too hard and Xander had landed half on Spike's lap and was now retaliating by trying to punch Spike in the gut. Spike fended off Xander's attack with one hand and held him down with the other. But at least the young man didn't smell like fear anymore. Now he smelled more like aggression and annoyance, two smells that appealed to Angel's vampiric nature.

"Some of us have class. We're going over architectural symbols today, so unless you want me to confuse our water lines for electrical lines and electrocute myself, you can not sit on me."

"Oi, can too."

"Angel!" Xander was stomach down over Spike's lap by this time, and he looked over to Angel for help. "Tell Spike to stop being a worry wart. I have a whole year before the crazy lady tries to kidnap me. And while you're at it, tell him he can't go kidnapping other people people."

"Bloody hell, he's the one who taught me how ta kidnap," Spike pointed out with a nasty smile in Angel's direction; however, Angel couldn't exactly deny the charge. He had taught Spike most of his bad habits. "Mind you, he was always taking the birds away and leaving me to bugger whatever guy we caught up in our snare, not that I minded." Spike landed a smack on Xander's butt, and Xander retaliated with an elbow in Spike's side. Angel really didn't think that Xander wanted to know how much vampires used physical confrontation and mutual attacks as a form of foreplay. Xander, however, looked a little frustrated at his inability to escape or even get a good hit in on Spike.

"Just to let you know, I officially told Anya that she scared me way more than you," Xander said. "I mean, penis shriveling? So much scarier than a little old railroad spike." Angel struggled to not grin at that counterattack. Xander was far smarter than he gave himself credit for, because that had gotten through all of Spike's defenses and scored a direct hit.

"You soddin' little runt. I've got a century of torture goin' for me."

"And she has a millennium. Millennium trumps century... I think." Xander looked over.

"It does," Angel agreed, watching as Spike glared even harder.

"I've cut men's bollocks off," Spike defended himself.

"Which is still not as much with the creepy as making them shrink to peas. And that doesn't even make sense to me, but my penis is voting that I keep far, far away from women to can do that."

Spike snorted. "Bloody hell, pet, if she's that scary, I'm surprised you didn't ask her out on a date."

Xander put his best punch right in Spike's stomach. Since Xander had started his construction classes, mostly out of a need to fix all the things Spike broke, he'd been putting on a lot of muscle. That still wasn't enough to make Spike even twinge. Xander just sighed and sagged down, obviously surrendering to Spike's manhandling.

"I hate hanging out with vampires. You guys do bad things to my manly ego."

Spike gave Xander a couple of swats on the butt before letting him go. Pushing himself up, Xander looked over at Angel.

"But I can go to class, right?"

Angel nodded. "That should be safe. Vengeance demons aren't known for breaking their word... they just..." Angel struggled to find the right word.

"Obfuscate?" Xander guessed, picking up on Blair's favorite word, a term that Faith had brought back from Cascade on her last visit. It'd taken Buffy two days to realize that Faith had been basically announcing her own lies right out in the open.

"Yes," Angel agreed. "Go get some sleep. We'll figure this out."

Xander nodded and pushed himself up. He smelled of weariness now, weariness and Angel's bloodmark. If they couldn't kill or distract this demon, Angel would follow Xander into whatever world where she sent him. And Angel had no doubt that Spike and Faith would follow him. One way or another, Angel was not going to lose his family.

"One week. I just want one week without the weird happening." With that, Xander wandered out of the room.

"Ya okay, Peaches?" Spike asked. Angel wasn't. He wanted to rip heads off. He wanted to eviscerate this Anyanka and wrap her entrails around her neck. He wanted to kill something and he had less than an hour before sunrise. He stood up and headed out the door.

"If we grabbed up Xander and the Saunders bint, we could get 'em together. He's randy around most any woman who's strong enough ta break him into pieces, and she's noticed him more than a few times," Spike commented as he followed Angel. Angel led up the stairs and to the roof. There was more chance of someone being flung off the roof and seriously injured, but less chance of being seen. "If we turn her, she'd be loyal."

"We don't turn people," Angel snarled. "Besides, if you touch her, he'll convince himself that it's his fault. He'll never survive that kind of guilt." Angel pushed the roof door open and headed out into the gray predawn air. Sunnydale sprawled out on all sides, the streetlights like rows of crops laid out in straight lines. Angel stood looking out and struggling with this own fury.

"You could take him." Spike inched out onto the roof, clearly reading Angel's mood.

"He won't have us."

"Bloody fuckin' hell. He'd have either one of us, Peaches. The boy isn't so far into denial that he can't be talked around it."

Angel spun around and backhanded Spike. The blow threw Spike across the roof and he had to grab an antenna to keep from going off.

"We aren't doing that to him."

Spike crouched, and Angel prepared himself for the counterattack, his cock already hardening. "Doing what? It's not like we'd treat him bad."

"It's not what he wants."

"How the fuck would you know? You never offered, did you?" Spike snarled the words, his body coiled for violence.

"No."

"Then call Faith back or make Cordelia come home from L.A. She shouldn't be off on her own, anyway."

"They have lives."

"They have a fucking clan." Spike leaped through the air, his hand reaching for Angel. Angel reached out to grab Spike, to throw him to the side. A half second too late, he saw the knife that Spike had thrown in advance of his attack. The knife sank deep into Angel's chest and delayed his defense just long enough for Spike to bowl him over.

"You'll pay for that," Angel snarled as he ripped the knife out and tossed it to the side.

Spike rolled and came up on his feet. "Counting on it, mate. So, is that the best you have?" Spike bounced on the balls of his feet.

Oh yeah, this is what Angel needed--an opponent he could put his hands on, that he could fight. He smiled slowly, fingering the blood that had soaked into his shirt before he licked it off his fingers. Spike went into gameface, his yellow eyes shining in the dim light.

"You'll learn, boyo," Angel promised as he leaped for at the boy. Spike danced to the side, breaking an antenna off and swinging it like a sword. Angel dove forward and under the weapon, tackling Spike by the knees.

"Fuck." Spike drove an elbow into Angel's neck, and a bone cracked with a loud snap. Pain lanced down through Angel's body, setting every nerve on fire. Angel could feel his blood flow through his body, the vampire healing tingling through his chest. This was the heat the mimicked life, that made Angel feel alive. Angel smiled and sank his teeth through Spike's jeans and into the vulnerable flesh underneath.

Spike roared and brought his elbow down on the same spot. Spots appeared in Angel's eyes as the bone failed, the jagged edges driving deep into his shoulder. But there was blood in his mouth, filling his senses and feeding the healing powers that tingled through his body. Spike was weakening now, his hands clawing at Angel as Spike's blood dripped onto the roof and soaked the jeans faster than Angel could suck.

"Fuck," Spike repeated, but this time, Angel could hear the lust and need in that one word. He backed up, his lips still tingling from the salt and power of Spike's blood.

"Ye never were a fast learner," Angel pointed out.

"You're thick as pig shite if ya think this is going to discourage me," Spike said, that cocky grin still on his face. He pulled himself to his feet, and Angel circled, watching as Spike shifted, his body ready to defend himself.

"I figure I can still teach ye a lesson."

"I drew first blood," Spike pointed out. "Arm hurt, mate?"

Angel smiled sadistically. His shoulder hurt like hell, and he was caught between frustration that Spike had caused so much damage and pride that he'd managed to get in such a good hit. "Someone musta taught you well," Angel pointed out, still circling.

"Dru," Spike shot back.

Angel laughed. Dru couldn't have taught a fledge how to feed much less how to fight. Sometimes he wondered how she was doing now that she had cut herself off from them, but that was one problem he didn't mind avoiding.

Spike got a wry look on his face and shrugged. They both knew that most of Spike's early tricks were learned at Angel's side. "So, you plan on circling until the sun comes up? Maybe you need a lesson in what you do with that," Spike said, his eyes going to Angel's crotch. His own hand reached down to cup his own erection.

"Oh, I know what I want to do with it," Angel said. He darted forward, but Spike danced back out of his reach. Pretending that he was frustrated with the retreat, Angel continued to chase Spike who simply danced backwards, laughing. At least he laughed until his heel caught on the antenna he'd dropped earlier. Trying to avoid falling, Spike made an inhuman leap into the air. Angel timed his attack and plowed into Spike when he was in the air, just when he would have no leverage. They both fell to the ground, and Angel pinned Spike to the ground under him.

Spike growled, his legs coming up around Angel, but instead of trying to force Angel off to the side, Spike pulled him close. Angel showed his fangs, growling his own warning. Spike might enjoy trying to control this, trying to manipulate Angel, but Angel was not going to be manipulated.

"Fucking tyrant."

"And?" Angel challenged Spike, grinding his body down into Spike.

"And nothin'," Spike agreed as he arched his back and pressed his cock up into Angel. Angel smiled, his own demon crowding forward. Tilting his head just slightly to the side, Spike invited Angel to bite, and Angel did, driving his fangs deep into Spike's neck and pulling the blood from him until he could feel Spike slow, his movement growing languid instead of demanding. Only then did Angel pull back enough to pull Spike's jeans open, the hard cock immediately pressing up.

"Boyo, you come before me and—"

"Shut the fuck up and just bugger me, ya bloody bogtrotting—" Spike stopped when Angel flipped him so fast that Spike didn't have a chance to protect his cock from the rough concrete. "Fuck."

"I plan to," Angel agreed, pulling Spike's jeans down to his knees before driving his cock deep into that strong body that twisted and bucked below him. Spike growled his pleasure, struggling up to his knees and lifting Angel's weight with him. The first hint of the sun added a hint of danger and the need to finish quickly, so Angel drove in with brutal speed, reaching around to grab Spike's cock and pump him.

Spike arched his back and roared out his pleasure as he came, leaving Angel to thrust into that tight, spasming hole before he came. Angel sighed, knowing he should probably do something to punish Spike. A real vampire sire would take the skin off Spike's back for intentionally disobeying an order, but Angel just pulled out and rolled onto his side, exposing his own neck. Spike slipped into his arms and drove his fangs deep into Angel's neck, sucking so that Angel could feel the connection between them like a bright line of fire connecting their dead hearts.

Spike pulled his fangs out after a second. "He'd be happy enough in your bed," Spike said quietly as he settled next to Angel. They had a couple of minutes before the sun came up, and Spike didn't fight against Angel's embrace.

Angel thought about that. He thought about what he was becoming, of the blood spilled between him and Spike, of the way his cock hardened when Spike fought him. "It's not going to happen," Angel said firmly. He might not know himself anymore, but he knew that Xander didn't fit in this picture. He couldn't substitute Xander for Spike without feeling sick in his very soul. Xander deserved better than what Angel could offer.

But Cordelia and Faith hadn't offered him much better. Angel stared up at the gray sky, streaks of clouds just starting to appear as the sun approached the horizon. Birds were singing, warning of the coming dawn that Angel could feel in his bones just like he could feel the fear of failure settling into his stomach. He could protect Xander from a lot of things, but he couldn't protect him from dying—he couldn't find Xander the perfect love—he couldn't do so much.

Even now, with his demon sated and quiet, he still didn't know what to do. God, no wonder he had avoided living for a hundred years. Living was messy and complicated and Angel didn't have any more answers than Liam had back when he'd just tried to drink himself into a state of not caring—not caring that his father hated him and his mother cried over him and he'd been even less successful in love than Xander. At least Xander had girls who liked him. The girls Liam had favored had only favored him as long as his purse had coin. Without coin, he was just one more rejected lover vomiting on himself in the back alley.

"If nothin' else, we'll find this Anyanka and rip all her guts out." Spike said and then he pushed up and away from Angel. Angel sighed and pulled his pants up.

"Stop broodin' over it, Peaches. I'll even let you be the one ta rip her head off," Spike offered, grinning like a madman as he pulled up his jeans and then dashed for the roof door. Shaking his head and still not sure what they were going to do, Angel followed, closing the door behind him.


	3. 3

Hear that?" Spike bounced on his toes and then froze before he looked over his shoulder and grinned at them. Sunnydale was quiet tonight, but it had been since the mayor had fallen, so Angel had a pretty good guess what was creeping through the distant bushes. "Up for muckin' about with the soldier boys?" Spike asked them.

Angel shook his head. Spike never was going to grow up, but Angel couldn't come up with any good reason for stopping Spike. Sometimes he wondered what he would have done with this version of William back before the curse. Back then, he'd been so focused on trying to impress Darla and convince the rest of the world that he wasn't some drunken loser that he had been remarkably bad at having fun. Even though Spike had toned down his violence to match the needs of his new clan with their inconvenient souls, Spike just delighted in fun. He delighted in fun as much as he'd once delighted in Drusilla, in watching her face when he brought her some trinket that temporarily lured her back from the edge of madness.

"You know, one of these days, one of them is going to catch you with a tazer," Xander warned.

"Oi, don't you have faith in me, pet?" Spike put on his best wounded expression.

"So much faith that I actually listen to you when you tell me that even the best prepared fighter has an accident sometimes."

"Yeah, but I meant you, not me, luv," Spike pointed out. He pulled a large insulated flask out of his jacket and downed the contents.

"Do I even want to know what that was?" Xander asked with a disgusted expression. Spike wiped his mouth and grinned. "No, no, don't tell me," Xander said, holding up a hand to stop Spike from describing whatever disgusting thing he was about to describe.

"Ice water," Angel told Xander. "And once he's dropped his body temperature too low for the sensors to register him, he's going to remind Finn that a hunter can't rely on his technology."

"Exactly," Spike agreed. "It's all about helping the sod, innit?"

"Or getting your jollies by trouncing them and then playing with them like a sadistic cat, only hopefully with less actual eating of the metaphor mice," Xander sighed.

"Same thing, pet. Last chance ta help me."

"Oh, I think I'll skip the soldier torture tonight," Xander said. Spike traded a concerned look with Angel before he shrugged and went darting off. Normally, Xander was more than happy to help play bait and beat up a couple of soldiers. Angel was starting to worry that Xander enjoyed it a little too much, but for last day or so, he'd been sticking close to Angel whenever he wasn't in class. He'd even fallen asleep on Angel's couch, and it wasn't difficult to figure out why.

"Any word from Lorne?" Xander asked. He walked so close that their arms brushed as they headed down the path.

"He has a lead on some books with references to Anyanka. Spike's going up to LA to get them tomorrow."

Xander nodded. "I called Blair."

"Does he know anything?" Angel hadn't thought to call Blair, maybe because he tended to think of the D'fatum demon as the expert on humans, not on demons. But he had at least as many connections to the demonic community as Lorne. Maybe more. Blair's uncle had been around for centuries.

"Blair says that vengeance demons aren't actually evil, more like issuey."

Angel frowned. "She shrivels men's genitals and gives them terrible diseases."

"Which they bring on by doing something really bad. And as someone who has never been genital-shriveling bad, I want to officially say that the universe sucks for putting me in her path. I've never done anything to warrant more than genital... and I'm stopping now, because that's kinda creepy to even think about. But anyway, Blair says that vengeance demons are actually humans who turn to trying to fix the balance of things, only they turn all demonic to do it, which is probably not the kind of fixing of things Father Peter would approve of. Every vengeance demon focuses on answering the not-so-nice prayers of one type of person, like Anya and her unhappy, screwed-by-love women. I wonder what kind of issues she had that she decided to take up penis shriveling for a living?"

Angel thought about that for a second. "I don't want to know," he finally said.

"Oh yeah. I'm with you in the land of blissful ignorance. I mean, Willow-issues and Faith-issues, and even you-issues with the whole guilt complex are enough for me. I don't even want to think about Anyanka-issues. I think Spike is the only issueless among us."

Angel managed to not choke on his own incredulity. Spike had enough issues to fit in with the rest of them; he'd just learned how to hide them a little better. The path widened into a small clearing. A park bench was sitting at the edge of an island of light, and Angel put his hand on Xander's back, guiding him to it.

"And this is totally making my head do the screwy," Xander said quietly as he sank down on the seat. In the distance, Angel heard a human call cut off sharply, but at least it didn't sound like Spike was doing any permanent damage to Finn's group.

"Xander?" Angel sat next to him, his hand on Xander's knee, offering comfort silently. While Angel often didn't know how to say what he was thinking, he found that a simple touch often allowed Xander to understand what Angel couldn't say.

"I was at class, and I kept looking at Brenda Bakersfield, wondering if maybe I could ask her out without making myself look like an idiot."

Angel cocked his head. "Isn't that normal?" he asked. While he'd been born before the custom of dating had really developed, from the television he'd seen, fear seemed normal.

"Yes, but then I started wondering if me liking her meant that she was more likely to be a demon because there's a long history of me and demons."

"There was Cordelia."

"Which is not big with the proving anything," Xander said with a shrug. "She scared that one vampire guy into not touching her during Slayerfest, and the fact that those demons couldn't tell Cordy from another slayer, so not saying much about her humanity. And then there's mummy-girl and preying mantis lady and Amy and Faith and Kendra." Xander swallowed, and Angel could feel the slight tremor in Xander's leg as that old memory washed through him. "You are seeing the pattern here, right?"

Angel didn't answer, but Xander did attract a fair number of demons and witches. Then again, unlike most males, he didn't immediately fight for the dominant position in a relationship. He didn't sprawl out, claiming as much territory as he could on the bench. He didn't jump into the middle of every conversation and dominate it. For demons, who often tended to be a little touchy on the topic, Xander would be one of the rare humans who did allow them to keep their own power. And for women like Faith and Amy who had been so badly hurt in the past, he was someone they could trust to not hurt them again. He was a good choice in a mate.

Angel ignored the way his chest tightened, hatred curling up in the center of it for whomever Xander chose.

"And then there is the whole issue of clan which is way more issuey with Spike around. I mean, I really felt bad for Graham because you know he did not deserve the whole smack down."

"He slept with Faith," Angel said, trying his best not to answer Xander's implied question. As far as Angel was concerned, Graham did deserve the injuries he'd received. Faith was stronger now, more centered after spending so many months with Blair, but she wasn't healed. He could see her pain in the way she diverted every question about her past with sexuality, in the way she looked to Angel or to Blair for approval. Xander never did that. Sometimes Xander seemed to go out of his way to try and annoy Angel, and Angel knew for a fact that Spike tried to annoy him. Faith's continued need for the protection of a patriarch suggested that her healing had only begun. So, if Graham was too idiotic to recognize that he was sleeping with an emotionally injured girl, he deserved every bruise and broken bone Spike gave him. That way, he wouldn't make the same mistake next time Faith visited.

"From experience, I'm guessing that she was sleeping with him way more than he was sleeping with her--not that there was any sleeping going on. Screaming and... I'm going to stop now," Xander interrupted himself, and Angel smirked as he could smell the gathering desire from Xander. "Stop sniffing me. That is so very high on the creep-meter," Xander said as he punched Angel's arm.

Angel captured Xander's wrist in his hand and held it. "I'm breathing."

Xander tried to jerk his hand away. "You don't breathe."

"Habit." Angel smiled at Xander, still holding his arm. Xander rolled his eyes and then yielded, allowing Angel to have control over Xander's hand. Angel held it for several seconds before giving it back.

"Issuey," Xander said softly. "And how long is Spike planning to take? We're supposed to be meeting with Giles."

Angel turned his attention to the distant sounds of scuffling. "It sounds like one of the unit is giving him a run for his money," Angel said as he heard the faint trails of two people still moving.

"Probably Riley. Riley's not bad."

"For a human," Angel agreed. He waited for that twinge of jealousy that Riley had finally taken the place he'd once wanted so badly. It didn't come. The soldier had no idea how strongly he smelled of Buffy, and for a second Angel wondered if Buffy's scent marking of her partner was intentional.

"There is nothing wrong with being human. Personally, I'm all in favor of humanity."

Angel didn't answer as he listened to the distant conflict. The better Riley got, the more Spike was going to feel a need to prove his superiority. The conflict might get out of hand. When two clans occupied the same territory, it wasn't unusual for the opposing enforcers to kill each other, and Angel couldn't expect Spike to ignore his instincts for too long. Xander was looking at him strangely, but Angel focused on the distant sounds and ensuring that Spike didn't accidentally break Riley.

"I should have brought my comic books or my text on retrofitting wiring in residentials." Xander leaned back against the bench and pushed his legs out in front of him. "Some of us can't hear well enough to enjoy the show, you know."

"Xander? Angel?" Angel had been concentrating so hard on Spike and Riley that he had not seen Buffy approach. Obviously Xander noticed his distraction because the boy was already smirking.

"Hey, Buff. We were going to come meet you at Giles', but we lost the third musketeer," Xander said cheerfully. "Pull up a bench." Xander scooted closer to Angel to make room for Buffy to sit next to them.

"No thanks. I'm actually just looking for Riley."

"Um..." Xander cleared his throat.

"Again?" Buffy demanded. "Angel, your brat is being exceptionally bratty."

"It is good training," Angel offered in way of an apology.

Buffy didn't look appeased. "After what happened with Graham..."

Xander interrupted her. "Hey! That was so not Spike's fault. I mean, he hears a woman screaming in the park in the middle of the night, and he reacted."

Buffy crossed her arms and shifted so that all her weight was on one leg. She looked like a school teacher about to scold Xander. She certainly didn't look like the child sitting in the sun and sucking on a lollipop as Whistler had once shown him. Looking back, he was embarrassed that he could have confused his desire for redemption with his desire for Buffy. The woman she was now, strong and confident and clearly annoyed... Angel could fall in love with her now if he allowed himself. He could have feelings for her without confusing his destiny and his love. However, their chance had passed. She deserved Riley who could grow old with her and stand by her side in the sun.

"So, Spike was being a good Samaritan?" Buffy demanded, not even pretended that she believed him.

Xander shrugged. "Hey, he is not a fan of raping. And he was probably hoping he'd found a rapist so he could have a good dinner, which I am not approving of, but in the grand scheme of life, antelope and rapists are on their own when it comes to predators."

Buffy frowned. This was one point on which the two would never agree, and Angel didn't want to see that conflict flare to life now.

"Spike was restrained considering the circumstances. A simple broken arm is nothing compared to what he could have done," Angel pointed out. Buffy frowned. She didn't like the logic, but she also didn't understand vampire culture well enough to know what had really happened. Angel wondered if Giles understood Spike's need to defend the clan now that Angel was leaving him to handle the duties normally performed by an enforcer. If he did, he had chosen not to explain it to the others.

"Whatever." Buffy dismissed the whole thing with a wave of her hand. "I so know that someone is not big with the truth-telling, but Graham seems weirdly okay with the breaking and manhandling, so I'm not going to comment. Then again, he slept with Faith, so manhandling is probably not a problem for him. And that weirdly implies gross things with Graham and Spike, doesn't it?" Buffy asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"It kinda does, Buff," Xander agreed with an equally disgusted expression. "There was some implied naughty in there somewhere."

"Ick." Buffy walked over and sat next to Xander. Angel noted that she sprawled more than Xander did. "And do I want to know what Spike is doing now, because the whole accidental implying of inappropriate is really doing not nice things to what I'm thinking."

"Okay, ew," Xander said softly.

"Seconding the ew," Buffy agreed. "I think my brain is all warped and broken. I walked in to see Giles the other day, and now all sorts of inappropriate things keep popping in when I really don't want them popping in. It makes me feel like a perv, but apparently my literature teacher is impressed with my ability to find a phallic symbol."

"You didn't..." Xander said slowly, his disgust not only clear in his voice but in his smell.

"Yes, Giles and Jenny, sitting in a tree, only it was Giles' kitchen table and that was not kissing. That was not even... and I am so not going there. I just didn't know that Giles' life came with a rating higher than mine. It seems wrong."

"He's an adult," Angel pointed out.

"And old," Buffy objected. "And I know I should be more mature about this, but I really just want to be squicked for a while.

"We can squick together," Xander offered. "Giles and sex is squick-worthy. I like to think that anyone over forty isn't doing that." Xander glanced over toward Angel. "Of course, I know I'm an idiot for thinking that, but sometimes I like to embrace my inner idiot."

"Embrace away."

"So," Xander asked after a long silence. "What's new with you guys?"

"Um, you know the roommate I said was a demon from hell?"

"Yeah?"

"She was," Buffy got a smug smile on her face. "I told them she was demonic, but they didn't believe me until she started sucking out my soul."

"She... what?" Xander nearly swallowed his tongue, and Angel sat up, his hand tight on Xander's leg. A soulless slayer was enough to cause his demon to rage and his instinct to urge him to pull Xander away.

"Yeah, but I kicked her ass and took my soul back. I wasn't the nicest person without a soul." Buffy shrugged. "I actually think Spike is nicer than me without the soul, so I will be voting no for any soul-sucking offers in the future."

Angel blinked, shocked that she would have faced such danger without calling for one of them.

"So, what's the sitch with you guys?" Buffy asked, and clearly she had recovered from the incident because she didn't even need to talk it through. Either that, or she had already done all her talking with Willow and Riley. Angel glanced at Xander, wondering if the boy missed being part of that inner group.

"I have a demon girl after me again," Xander offered.

"Again?" Buffy asked, and Xander tensed under Angel's hand, at least until he saw her expression.

"Very funny, Buff."

"There's a rule written somewhere. You get the demon girls, and I get the weird guys." Buffy was silent for a second. "At least, I used to. I'm really starting to think that me and Riley might actually have something."

"I hope so, Buff. You deserve something good. Besides, I was running out of loser jokes for your boyfriends." Xander just smiled when Buffy punched his arm.

"Oi, lookie what I found," Spike said cheerfully as he came into the clearing, pushing through the bushes and pulling Riley behind him. Angel could see that Riley had his hands tied, and Buffy was on her feet, stake out, almost immediately. Spike flashed into gameface, and Angel hurried to get up and between them.

"Spike," Angel warned as he hurried to take custody of Riley.

"Oi, bugger was hiding one of them tranq darts in his hands for after I caught him. If he isn't going to play fair, I'm not either."

"You never play fair," Xander said, while Angel took Riley's arm and pulled him away from Spike, Xander went to Spike's side.

"Yes, but I nearly got you, this time. I will take you down sooner or later," Riley said with confidence, and Angel was surprised to see that he wasn't all that upset about getting tied up. "You need to go cut the other guys loose," Riley suggested while Angel examined the ropes. Spike had been a little too enthusiastic, and it was going to be hard to get the ropes off without cutting them. Angel gave Spike a dirty look as he pulled his knife out. Spike just smirked. The smirk vanished when Angel didn't soften his expression.

"I'll go get 'em," Spike offered, and then he off into the woods again. Angel sighed. They were just lucky that Riley was good-natured about losing or this game really could get badly out of hand. One wrong move, and Spike was going to kill or rape the soldier; he was just too good as a fighter and his willingness to challenge Spike touched on too many instincts.

"Angel, are you going to let get him get away with this?" Buffy demanded.

"It's no worse than training," Riley said, waiting as Angel tried to cut the strands of rope without cutting Riley. "And the unit is improving."

"He tied you up!" Buffy objected, pointing at Riley's hands with her stake.

"So did my commander when I was taking covert evasions class," Riley said, and Angel was once more surprised at just how calm the soldier was taking all this. "Besides, I've seen Spike manhandle Xander just as much, so you can't convince me that he has any nefarious motive.

Angel paused. That was a dangerous assumption. Spike manhandled Xander because they were clan, family, and that gave Spike certain privileges. However, Riley belonged to Buffy, and the motives weren't the same.

"Riley," Angel said softly, not sure how to explain this. "I don't--" He stopped.

"What the ever-articulate one is trying and failing to say," Xander interrupted, "is that Spike is all about who has the power, and this may be a game as long as he ends up with the power in the end, but it really might not be all that gamelike if you ever won."

Buffy took an aggressive step forward, her body radiating danger and anger, and Angel had to take a deep breath and fight back the urge to pull Xander away from her. "Define ungamelike. Like he might refuse to come over and eat popcorn and play Monopoly with the rest of us?"

Xander flinched and looked at Angel as though seeking permission. But Angel didn't understand Buffy or her reactions well enough to know how to calm her down, and he could only trust that Xander would make the right decision about how much to share. "Um... I beat him once, and he pretty much spent the next week sitting on me. And I only won because Angel sorta cheated to help me win. But Ri, if you beat him, he's going to do something to remind you that he's way with the stronger. And trust me, he's always going to be way with the stronger, and the faster, and the fighting dirtier. He has a century of really dirty fighting behind him."

Riley looked at Xander for long, silent seconds, and Angel went back to work trying to cut the bindings. "Understood," Riley finally acknowledged. "I'm still going to try and win, but if I do, I'll accept the consequences of that."

"Riley!" Buffy objected loudly. Angel knew she had her own instincts, and every time Spike and Riley got into a conflict, she probably felt the need to stake Spike just as much as Angel felt the need to protect Xander.

"Buffy, they're our strongest allies. My team isn't up to their standards. Most of the unit can't take Xander, much less a master vampire or a serious demon. And that's after years of military training and covert ops work. I need the freedom to use the tools I have available to make sure we're as prepared for any emergency as we can be."

Angel cut the last strand, and Riley brought his hands around to the front, rubbing the wrists as he just stared at Buffy, waiting for an answer. Buffy looked at him and then turned to stare at the woods where Spike had vanished.

Buffy's hands twisted around the stake, rubbing the wood. "Xander, could Spike hurt them?"

Xander didn't answer right away. "Um... maybe?" Xander finally admitted.

"That has always been a danger," Riley pointed out. "Just like we might get killed trying to take down a demon or someone could target us because they want to establish a base of operations on the Hellmouth. But Graham said that Spike wanted to kill him, and he chose to back off and allow Graham to call for help." Riley took a step toward Buffy, raising his hand for a second as though he was going to touch her shoulder, but then he put his hands behind him and stood straight. "The danger that Spike could kill one of us keeps us on our toes; it reminds us that this war isn't being fought by humans, and we have to meet an enemy that's faster, smarter, and more adaptable than anything we've experienced during training. Buffy, if you tell me to pull the men back, I will order them to disengage the moment they identify Spike during any conflict, but I don't believe that's the best use of our resources."

Buffy shoved her stake back in the waist of her pants. "I really preferred it when I wasn't all adultlike. Because now, when I say 'fine', I'm going to have to live with the guilt if Spike hurts someone, and Angel, if that happens, I plan to get irrational and childishly vengeful all over Spike."

"Buffy, just remember that he has taken three slayers," Angel pleaded. He couldn't bring himself to say more because he honestly didn't know who he would want to win such a fight. He hoped he never had to make that choice.

"As long as he remembers that I've taken hundreds of vamps," she answered, and Angel thought that was probably as close to a truce as they were going to come. "So, are we going to Giles'? Oh God, we are going to Giles' and now I have to face the table of Giles. I don't want to face the table." Buffy looked at Riley in distress, and Riley cleared his throat, probably to kill a laugh before he held out his arm and gathered Buffy up. "Protect me from the creepy images that keep playing on the inside of my eyes," she begged him, turning her face toward his chest.

"I'll stay between you and the table the whole time," Riley promised.

"Between me and Jenny, too, please," Buffy asked. "Jenny, tables, wooden spoons, and all butter are officially on the list of things from which you must protect me."

Riley smiled and patted her back. "Always," he promised.

Angel watched them, the power now shifting so that Riley acted as protector, his arms around Buffy. It was uncomfortable. Angel shifted away, not sure how to deal with the sudden and inexplicable return of his childlike Buffy who was clearly not the dominant adult.

"So, we're off to see Giles, and Buffy, you so do not have room to talk. Let me tell you, living near Faith and Spike, I have a whole laundry list of things that I can no longer look at." Xander slipped his arm around Angel's arm and started pulling him down the path. "Washing machines, those clips you use to put laundry out on a line, and since we have no line, I'm not even sure why we had those clips, but..." Xander shrugged. "And then there's rope and hairbrushes and caramel sauce, and carrots, and considering that carrots were one of the vegetables that Angel could get me to eat without complaining, that was a major loss. However, I will never eat a carrot again without brain scarring memories."

"You don't sound too scarred by it," Riley commented, his arm around Buffy's shoulders as they followed.

"Oh, you have no idea. I've just given up pretending to be shocked," Xander offered. Angel listened as Spike raced through the woods just north of them to wait near the street. He didn't want to come up from behind where Buffy would be between him and the rest of the clan. Angel sighed. This situation couldn't go on forever, that's for sure. Angel just wasn't sure what he should do. He didn't want to take Xander away, but more and more he was starting to think he couldn't keep Spike here.

"Captain," a voice called out from behind, and Riley paused, watching as his three soldiers came up behind them. Saunders, the only woman in the unit was there. Angel looked at her with an appraising eye. It was Saunders who had called. "Sir, reporting back. Did you get him?"

"No, I got my ass kicked and then tied up," Riley answered without any rancor.

"Next time, sir," Saunders suggested, then she fell back to take a rear position. She wasn't right for Xander. Her voice was so annoying that he could never find love with her. Angel pulled his arm free from Xander's hold and rested it on the small of Xander's back, urging him to walk faster. The sooner they found out whether or not Giles had information, the sooner Angel could get Xander back home.


	4. 4

They pulled into the parking garage, the brilliant sun of the late afternoon vanishing into shadows. And the chill didn't seem to have all that much to do with the sudden lack of sun. Los Angeles seemed like a pretty cheerful place from what Xander had seen as they drove through at 90 miles an hour, but this law firm's building seemed to suck up all the cheer and put out creep-vibes.

"Seriously not liking this place," Xander complained softly. Pulling into the first open spot, Angel cursed softly in Irish, which usually meant that he was going to find Spike, disappear, and show up many bruises and broken bones later. Irish Angel was pissy Angel, and pissy Angel took it out on Spike.

Xander got out of the car and wasn't surprised when Angel's hand came up around his neck, pulling him way too close for complete heterosexual comfort. Pissy Angel was also handsy.

"Peaches," Spike said, walking out from behind a pillar, his cigarette and his eyes glowing dimly in the shadows.

"What have you gotten yerself into?" Angel demanded. "Caught in a building, in daylight. I thought I beat this kind of stupidity out of you."

Xander knew there was major badage when Spike didn't even bother to verbally snipe right back. Instead he dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his boot with way more force than was really needed.

"Wankers took Cordelia."

For a second, Xander could only blink, his mind coming up with all kinds of stupid questions, like 'his Cordelia?' and 'who?' and 'how did Spike find out?' Luckily, Xander's brain had learned to disengage from the mouth when the less human members of the family were this worked up. Angel's eyes flashed yellow, and his hand tightened around Xander's neck to the point where it was almost painful. Xander made a little grunt, and Angel immediately loosened his hold, moving his arm so that it was slung over Xander's shoulders and still way too close for total heterosexual comfort.

"How many?"

"One vamp. Lots of other wankers." Spike turned and started walking, his coat billowing around him. Instead of following, Angel paused, and Xander could almost read the big idiot's mind. He could definitely read that stubborn expression.

"Oh no, no, there will be no leaving of the Xander. Besides, I will just follow you two seconds after you take me back to the car, so unless you plan to spend all night carrying me back here, I am not going to be left alone." Xander crossed his arms and glared.

"I could tie you up or lock you in the trunk," Angel threatened.

That only made Xander roll his eyes. "Oh please, something would come along and eat me, and you know it."

Angel sighed. "I should have left you at home."

"I would have followed."

"I could have tied you up there." Angel started walking towards Spike, an arm still around Xander.

"The house would have caught on fire. Admit it. Me and luck are not buds, not unless you count bad luck, and then it's not so much that we're buddies as it is bad luck is like the little brother who follows me around and makes me miserable. Or he's the big brother who follows me around and beats me up for fun. Either way, me and luck are not to be trusted in the same room together." And that brought another huge Angel sigh.

The elevator dinged open, and Spike went in, that weird bounce in his steps that suggested that either demons or drywall was about to get very broken. "Spike, who has Cordelia?" Xander asked as they went in. Spike pushed the button for the top floor, and then Xander couldn't really see anything else because he was physically shoved behind a wall of vampire.

"Wanker named Russell Winters. Vamp."

Yep, Spike was not really big with the talking when he was really pissed. Well, pissed drunk he talked a lot, but pissed angry, he turned all Oz levels of quiet.

"I thought you said she was safe." Angel had the cranky voice out.

"Thought she was. Winters was respecting the bloodmark."

Xander's eyes went big at that little bombshell. His vamps had bloodmarked Cordelia, which meant... he had no idea what that meant. He just knew that the bloodmarking was what made him smell like Angel and it was the reason that one minion had actually broken his own leg trying to abort an attack mid-lunge. It'd been weirdly amusing if you discounted the pain and writhing, and he really had been hanging out with Spike way too much.

"What happened?" Angel growled.

"She bloody went after him. Tried ta stake the bastard."

"Cordelia?" Xander asked in surprise. That was not like Cordelia. Cordelia was more the kind to sit on the headstone and point at whoever she wanted dusted. Queen C was more than just a random nickname. No random at all in that name.

"Yes, Cordelia," Spike snarled, his fangs making his accent sound all weird. "I fucking told her to drop it. I told her to stay away from him. Vamps feed; it's what we fucking do."

The elevator opened, and Spike stormed out, his coat looking mighty capelike in a red kryponite evil-coming-your-way kind of way. "Stay close," Angel ordered, and then he followed, leaving Xander to trail behind. They were in a fancy office building with wide windows, and Xander opened his mouth to shout a warning when Spike walked right through a patch of sunlight without the ugly-ass ring to protect him, but there wasn't even a wisp of smoke.

A secretary hurried out from behind a desk. "You cannot go in th--" She didn't get any farther before Spike drove a stake into her heart. Xander lost a step, horror making his legs lose the pattern of walking, but then the secretary turned to a dust statue with a surprised face, her skeleton showing for a millisecond before Spike charged right through her, scattering her ashes. Vampiric secretaries. That was... new and weirdly disturbing. Others moved to the side, and Spike closed in on an ornate double door. One kick, and the doors flew open.

"Where the fuck is she?" Spike demanded. Xander followed Angel into the room. There was a large conference table, and at the head of it stood a middle aged man with heavy features. Xander had no idea how he knew, but he was definitely calling that one a vamp. An older woman with her gray hair in a bun and a young guy with a smirky smile stood to one side.

"William," the vampire started around the table, looking like he might hold out his hand for Spike to shake, and the growl that came from Spike was enough to make Xander press closer to Angel.

The vampire changed his focus from Spike to Angel. "Angelus, your childe is not exactly well mannered. We are civilized here; we do not go charging into each other's lairs staking minions and issuing challenges."

"I dunna care what you want. I want my female back," Angel said, and Xander was calling that soft and silky tone an Angelus voice... a pissed Angelus voice. Sometimes Angel's inner demon was a little freaky, and they were definitely heading for the freaksome now.

"She attacked me. I never challenged the bloodmark. I have to say that I was surprised. I thought bloodmarking territory went out with gas streetlights."

"I do things the old way," Angel said as he stepped forward, his hand falling to the sword he had hidden under his coat.

The vampire raised his hands. "I believe in being more reasonable. For example, my lawyers here have prepared a document. It holds me free of any liability for minor injuries she may have suffered in my attempts to defend myself and it holds you personally responsible for any of Ms. Chase's actions after she is released, including any attempt to press charges or defame my character. Mr McDonald?"

The smirker stepped forward. "Lindsey McDonald, counsel for Russell Winters. If you would just like to sign--"

Spike darted forward and grabbed the lawyer by the shoulders, driving teeth into his neck so fast that Xander didn't have time to do more than gasp before Spike was feeding. Xander clung to Angel's coat in shock. Yeah, he knew that Spike fed, but knowing and seeing were definitely not the same. Lindsey's hands clawed at Spike's shoulders, and one leg kicked out, but then his struggles grew quieter. Xander held his breath, not sure what to think because killing bad, but this was a lawyer. This was a lawyer who worked for a vampire. Hell, this lawyer worked for a vampire who had kidnapped Cordelia, so there were layers on layers of bad there, but that didn't mean he wanted a front-row seat.

"Spike," Angel said softly. Spike raised his head, his lips red with blood. With a wicked smile, he dropped the lawyer on the table. From the groaning and weak twitches, the guy was still alive. He wasn't happy, but he was alive. A little part of Xander's brain wondered if Angelus was better at biting or something because the humans he'd seen Angelus bite on Christmas Eve had been way more into it than this guy. Then again, Angelus had left neat little holes, and Lindsey had a raw and sluggishly bleeding wound.

"I don't really care about lawyers and contracts. I want my human," Angel stepped forward to Spike's side, and for a half second, Xander was left a whole five feet away from his vamps. He quickly moved to a spot just behind Angel. He so should have stayed in the car, but he usually figured out that he was in over his head when his head was already six feet underwater, and he was sinking fast.

"You seem fond of your humans," Winters said, and now he looked at Xander.

"Hey, eyes to yourself, bub!" Xander complained. For the first time, Winters actually showed a little of his vampire nature, yellow eyes flashing at Xander. Angel moved and now Xander had a good view of his back.

"You shouldn't be worrying about my court. You should be a little more concerned about the fact that you have surrounded yourself with fools." Angel started moving. He walked in a slow arc with Winters at the center. Oh yeah, this was so going to go bad. Spike moved off to the side, and Xander retreated to a wall, his hand on his cinquedea. Angel reversed his direction and walked an arc toward the windows.

Winters watched, and that almost looked like worry on his face. "This isn't some cave where we challenge each other for territory. Your human attacked me. She interfered with my feeding, and I restrained her and waited for you to come collect her."

"Call and have her sent here." Angel reversed and paced back toward Xander. Spike held his spot near the table, but he was crouched, all bounce gone as he waited to explode into motion.

Maybe Winters finally figured out that he was chin deep in shit and sinking fast because he reached over and hit the intercom button on his phone. "Have Ms. Chase escorted to my office," he ordered. Angel smiled, but that was more the Angelusy smile of doom than anything Xander would want to see aimed at him. Winters was clearly an idiot, though, because he smiled back. "We can work things out. I can see where you might have taken this as a hostile act, even though I never meant it that way. She is the one who attacked me."

"If you canna defend yourself from a slip of a girl, you don't deserve to keep your unlife," Angel commented with that same amused expression that was seriously starting to freak Xander out. Angel tilted his head and considered Xander, his head tilted up while he scented the air. A half second later, Angel frowned--now that expression was all Angel with the doubt and the distress. Oh no. No and more with the no because Angelus was handling this way better than Angel would have.

"Yeah, buddy," Xander said, pulling Winters' attention to him before the guy noticed that Angel had gone all regrety. "If you feel threatened by a human, you are so not even worth the dust that you're going to get turned into. As a human, I'm officially saying that any vamp who feels intimidated enough to kidnap me is rating pretty high on the loser scale of unlife."

Spike bounced on his toes, clearly amused.

Winters snarled. "You are noth--"

"You do na talk to him. He is mine," Angel practically roared as Angelusy traits took front and center. The gray-haired lady made a little squeaking mouse-sound and retreated to the corner. Even the wounded guy managed to slide off the table and get himself half under it. Yep, there was one who knew how to keep himself alive in the middle of potential mayhem. Actually, Xander might join him under the table if things got really bad because that table was the only thing in the room large enough to provide any cover.

"I apologize." Winters had his hands up in surrender again. "I should have left her on the street. I would like to make amends. You're welcome to Lindsey. He's quite a good lawyer and if nothing else, your childe clearly enjoys the taste of his blood."

Xander expected outrage and arguments and threats, but Lindsey just sat under the table, his hand pressed to his injured neck as he watched silently. Oh, if Angel ever tried to offer Xander up as a peace offering, the vamp would never have a minute of peace again in his life, but Lindsey didn't even look particularly surprised or offended. The guy needed to find a new job, one with benefits that included a no-getting-traded-to-enemies clause. Although right now, Xander was thinking the guy would be lucky to get traded. Angelus had less of the creep going than these guys.

A knock on the half-open door interrupted the uncomfortable silence that had descended on the room. "Mr. Winters? We have Ms. Chase," a voice called out, but Xander couldn't see anyone. Yep, the smart ones were definitely hiding down the hall.

"Send her in," Winters called out. Someone must have given Cordelia a good shove because she came stumbling forward, hit one of the doors which was hanging from a broken hinge and then tumbled into the room. Her hands were tied, and without them, she ended up face down on the floor in an inelegant and unCordeliaish heap. Xander darted forward, his cinquedea out.

"You disgusting little troll," Cordelia complained, and Xander was seriously hoping she was aiming that at Winters and not him. "Seriously! What is your problem?"

"Pet, you okay?" Spike asked, his nose going as he scented the air.

"If loser boy would hurry up and cut me loose, I'd be fine."

"Hey, I'm working on it," Xander defended himself as he used his blade to slice through knots. Whoever had tied her up had been a little too enthusiastic, so he was guessing that she had been giving them a hard time.

She pushed herself up to her knees and pinned Winters with a very Cordeliaish expression. "He had to have minions sneak up on me from behind. What kind of a reject is too afraid to fight a human? And what kind of a reject goes after my friends? At least Spike goes after people who can fight back, but you have to use your money to trick girls and then you have your hired help hold them down. You couldn't get a fang into an orange without someone to hold the orange still for you. Even then, you'd probably miss."

"Oi, sounds like she has your number," Spike offered, and that bounce was back.

"She's disrespectful," Winters snapped.

"Not to me, she isn't," Angel pointed out as he started that slow pace again. The bounce vanished from Spike's step. "But then I've earned her respect. Do you truly target the weakest humans you can find? Do you truly require help in your hunt?"

Winters didn't answer.

Angel gave a slow, low laugh. "Oh boyo, what did I always teach you about vampires who couldn't hunt for themselves?" he asked Spike.

Spike smiled. "Ya said they weren't worth challenging. Ya said that no matter how many years they'd managed to survive, they were nothing more than glorified minions, and should be put down like one," Spike immediately answered.

"You dis--" Whatever Winters was going to say, he never finished it. Xander couldn't even tell if Spike or Angel had thrown the stake, but it was there in Winters' chest for half a second as the outline of the man in dust hovered in the air, and then it exploded.

The woman in the corner squeaked again. Angel looked over toward her, and for a half second, Xander worried about whether Angel was going to get all Angelusy on her too. Xander cut the last strand on the ropes around Cordelia's wrists, and she stood up.

"I don't care who you people are, but you leave my clan alone." Angel growled the words, and the woman nodded so fast that she looked like a bobblehead doll.

"Exactly! I warned you that you weren't vamp enough to challenge Spike and Angel, but oh no. You thought that surviving a couple of hundred years made you someone important. Loser," she told the pile of dust that had been Winters. With that, Cordelia dismissed them all with a sniff and turned to leave. She was one step out the door before Spike gave a colorful curse and darted out after her.

"Move," Angel said, gesturing toward Spike. Xander got up and hurried after him, leaving Angel to protect the rear. On the way out, the employees were still keeping to the sides of the hallways. Cordelia charged past them, her head high, and Spike kept close to her side, Xander right behind him.

Welcome to the big city, where instead of hanging out in cemeteries, the evil dressed up in suits and ties and had demonic secretaries. This was freaky, even for a hellmouth boy like him. They reached the elevator without anyone stopping them, and Cordelia pushed the down button and crossed her arms. She didn't look any more annoyed than she would have if someone had told her they had run out of her shoe size.

Angel rested his hand on the small of Xander's back, and the four of them watched as people peered from behind office doors and around corners.

"Evil lawyers. Kinda cliche," Xander offered.

"Cliches are born in truth," Angel sighed. "They want power and they think a vampire is the way to gain power."

"Vampires are the way to get dead," Xander disagreed. Then he looked at his weird little family. "Or the way to get pushed around and sat on and ordered to eat vegetables, which is still not feeling powerful," he amended himself.

Cordelia looked at him with that old expression of hers, the one that suggested he was an idiot, but she still liked him anyway. He hadn't seen that look since he had screwed everything up. Cordy shook her head at him.

"Guys, are we sure we're safe in an elevator?" Xander asked as the little bell dinged and the doors opened.

"I'm not walking down twenty stories," Cordelia insisted as she stepped inside, and that pretty much ended that discussion. A man in a suit was already in the elevator, and Spike reached in and grabbed him by his tie, flinging him out before he followed. Xander and Angel got on last.

The elevator music was pretty surreal as they rode down to the garage level. Spike's mouth was still stained red, and his coat was gray with vampire ash. Cordelia had her arms crossed over her chest in a pose that generally meant she was about to rip into the cheerleaders for not working hard enough, but her wrists were covered with angry red welts. Angel just... actually, Angel didn't have any emotion on his face at all, which generally did not bode well for whoever had pissed him off.

They got out in the garage, and Angel led the way to the car. "You're in the trunk," he told Spike. "And next time you get yourself trapped in a building with no sewer access, you'll have a lot more to worry about than an uncomfortable trip in a trunk," he warned. Spike didn't answer. He was busy glaring at Cordelia. Xander tended to wilt under that expression, and if he tried to stick up for himself, Spike usually just grabbed him and dumped Xander over his lap. It was hard to stick up for yourself when you were stuck over someone's lap. However, Cordelia just glared back at him.

"There are enough people in the world who deserve to get eaten. I wasn't going to stand back and let him eat girls I knew."

"You had no business challenging a master vampire," Spike snarled, his eyes yellow.

"You made your choice, I made mine," she told him archly. Cordelia could do a mean arch when she wanted to.

"He could have fucking killed you!" Spike pivoted and was nose to nose with Cordelia.

"Yes, he could have. Your point?" Cordelia had her sweet voice going, and Cordelia's sweet voice was about as scary as Angelus'.

"Argue about this later," Angel ordered. He opened the trunk of the convertible. "In."

Spike gave Cordelia one last growl before he got in the trunk, wrapping his coat around him.

"You could get a fucking van, Peaches," he complained, but Angel slammed the trunk.

"I could, but I don't want to," Angel answered as he went to the driver's side. "Get in the car."

Xander hurried to claim shotgun, and then retreated to the backseat when Cordelia turned her arch on him. Angel didn't comment on the seat shuffle because he was too busy trying to strangle his steering wheel with his bare hands. His knuckles were turning white. Xander knew that if he held onto something that tightly, he'd lose circulation and his fingers would go numb, but maybe vampires were different. Or maybe Angel was so angry that he didn't care.

They pulled out onto the street. The sun was starting to set, and the tall buildings cast long shadows over the road.

"You can't challenge vampires." Angel had on that calm before the storm voice, and for once, it wasn't Xander who had inspired it.

"I think I just proved I can." Cordelia stared at the buildings, turning her back to Angel, and if Xander were stupid, he'd get in the middle of this fight by pointing out that Cordy was just pissing him off more by turning her back to him. However, he liked to think he'd left his days of complete stupidity behind with textbooks and chalk dust and Sunnydale High.

"You were captured."

Cordelia shrugged. "So I'm not good at challenging vampires. It doesn't mean I can't do it anyway."

Angel made a noise that sounded like someone was smushing a hamster. Not even Xander had ever inspired that particular sound.

"You are such an idiot," Cordelia sighed, and she gave Angel one of those looks that she usually saved for Xander... and the kid who always ate glue in class. Yellow flashed in Angel's eyes, but Cordelia seemed a little less than intimidated. "Xander," she said, turning to him, and for a second, Xander knew pure terror. Demons and hellgods scared him less than the thought of getting into a fight between these two. "If Angel told you to let someone die, would you do it?"

Xander's memory flashed back to a night long ago when Angelus had slipped out, the feel of Angelus' hands on Xander, pinning him down, threatening him if he wasn't quiet while Angelus hunted and killed. "Um, I'm thinking I've already proved that's a big old 'no'." From Angel's flinch, he knew exactly what Xander was thinking.

"Exactly." Cordelia turned her glare back on Angel. "We are not children, and we do not do what we're told just because you and blondie back there think you have some sort of claim over us. Yes, Winters was leaving me alone, but I am not going to sit back and let him eat the prettiest and the smartest girls out there on the audition circle. Someone has to think of the future of the human genome here."

Angel was almost whispering in his attempt to not yell. "Cordelia, you could have been killed."

"I think I know that."

And the emotional dam broke. "Do ye want someone to rip your throat out and feast on your blood?" Angel shouted loud enough that even people who had their windows rolled up turned and looked at him in surprise and fear. Angel slumped down in the seat, and when the light turned green, he floored the accelerator. Xander noticed that the other cars let them get way ahead. Yep, no one wanted to try and drag race with the crazy sun-lovin' vampire.

Cordelia gave a big sigh. "I happen to think that my life isn't worth turning my back and letting someone like Winters take out girl after girl. I know these people. I go on auditions with them and suffer through really boring acting workshops with them, and I draw cartoon mustaches on their headshots when no one is looking, but I will not let some vampire eat them."

"Wait. Auditions? I thought you were going to acting college or something," Xander interrupted. Cordelia looked at him, and for a second, something that looked like doubt flashed across her face, which was weird because Cordy was many things, but she never had an ounce of doubt, not even when verbally shredding someone who so did not deserve it.

She shrugged. "Acting requires auditions. Besides, I need the money. My parents neglected to pay their taxes for the last several decades." Cordelia sounded so airy and casual that Xander knew she was totally putting on an act. And she didn't act all that well, so her going on auditions was probably not all that pretty. Then Xander started thinking of their last months in school. Cordelia had been grounded from her car and stuck hitching rides with Harmony or one of the college boys she dated. She stopped having the cheerleaders over to her house. She'd tried to get him to buy her prom dress. But he hadn't, and she'd still shown up in the most lavish designer dress in the history of all promming, which wasn't particularly surprising given that it was Cordelia... but...

"How long?" Xander asked.

Angel flinched, and Xander narrowed his eyes at that bit of evidence. "You knew!" Xander accused him. Angel didn't protest his innocence, so Xander punched the stupid vamp as hard as he could in the shoulder. Unfortunately, it wasn't hard enough.

"Oh please, get over yourself, Xander Harris. You didn't tell me about your night with Faith, I didn't tell you about Daddy's IRS trouble. That isn't exactly saying good things about our relationship."

"I told you about Faith," Xander said, not exactly sure how this had come back to him and his screw ups.

"No, you told me that night was 'disturbing.'" She made quotes with her fingers in the air. "Which means that you basically told me that there was something you weren't telling me. It's not the same."

Xander shrank back into his seat. Yep, Cordelia's nails were just as sharp as ever. Actually, he was surprised she hadn't talked Winters into dusting himself.

"None of this changes the fact that you should not be challenging vampires," Angel said, and thank god for him and his one-track mind. He pulled up in front of an apartment building with ugly square windows and square lines and the sort of modern architecture that Xander absolutely hated, even if it did make finding water lines ridiculously easy.

"And none of it changes the fact that I'm going to anyway," she answered sweetly. "You and Spike can play Daddy with Xander; I am not going to get ordered around by anyone, and don't think that paying my rent gives you any more rights than anyone else has on that front."

"Hey, they are not playing Daddy. I have a father, and trust me, if Angel or Spike acted anything like him, I would stake them. Or I would try to stake them. I would try and fail to stake them." Xander shrugged. He'd long ago come to terms with the fact that he was always going to be the physical weakling of the group. It helped that he could beat the snot out of at least some of the covert-ops trained soldiers though.

"I am not his father," Angel growled. "But if he tried to challenge a master vampire, I would lock him in his room for a month."

"You don't have that option with me," Cordelia said as she got out of the car. "And seriously, Angel, pull your head out of your ass because if he lets you lock him in his room and sit on him and generally torture him with anally retentive over-protective tendencies... well, there are a limited number of relationships where someone will put up with that. I'm just saying," she finished. And then she gave both Angel and him one of her looks that proclaimed their stupidity. Then she turned her back and walked toward the building without another word.

"Fucking go after her!" Spike shouted from the trunk, his words muffled by the upholstery.

"She's going to make up her own mind." Angel practically growled the words, and then he accelerated right into the path of a Volvo that had to brake and swerve into a turn lane. Oh yeah, Angel was going to be a joy tonight, that's for sure.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hello, house of madness, chief straight-coat puller speaking," Xander answered the phone.

"Xander?" The man on the other end was sounding stressed enough that Xander tried to sit up; however, Angel grabbed his ankles.

"Don't spill the popcorn," Angel growl-whispered.

"This is Xand-man," Xander said to the man on the phone, giving Angel a dirty look. Angel glanced over, his hands still holding Xander's legs down across Angel's lap, the popcorn bowl perched on top, but at least he was interested.

"It's Graham."

"Graham?" Xander had trouble processing that one because Graham had been huge with the avoiding of them ever since Spike had beat the snot out of him for sleeping with Faith. "What's up?"

"I think I need some backup."

Angel took the bowl and moved it to the table so that Xander could finally sit up. Spike had been sprawled over his end of the couch, but now he leaned forward. Then again, Spike was probably hoping for a chance to beat Graham senseless again.

"Buddy, any demon with any self-respect takes the night off to watch stupid horror films and eat popcorn and make inappropriate complaints about the lack of realism in blood spray," Xander said slowly. "Are you sure you aren't trying to slay a trick-or-treater?"

"I'm sure." Graham sure sounded big with the sureness, and he wasn't one to lose his head during a fight. "Buffy and Riley went to a party, but I lost Riley's signal. When I went to the house to investigate..." He stopped, and Xander could pretty much guess what the problem was. Yep, Sunnydale was good at making people worry about the crazy-making... or the crazy-assuming anyway since most of the crazy turned out to be real.

"Trust me, I've dated a praying mantis and a mummy, I've seen talking dolls and invisible girls. Graham, whatever you're going to say, you are not even approaching my levels of weird." Yep, Xander watched the Twilight Zone when he wanted that warm, fuzzy feeling of home and all things familiar, because his life was pretty much one big Hellmouth Zone.

"I heard screams, and when I tried to get in the house, the house swallowed the door and I was left looking at solid siding."

"Ah fuck. What the hell is wrong with demons today, mucking around on fucking Halloween when they should be home spawning or somethin'." Spike was up off the couch and grabbing at his coat, and Angel was right behind him.

"Where's the house?" Xander asked, tilting the phone a little to make it easier for the others to hear.

"The Alpha-Delta house on the north side of campus."

"On it," Spike said as he headed for the door, and Xander was so not asking how Spike knew where the frat house was. Then again, loud music and lots of drinking tended to attract Spike.

"Graham, we're on our way. Call Giles and see if he and Jenny can provide a little magical backup because people-swallowing houses might not be something you can kill with a sword," Xander said. Not even waiting for an answer, he hit the disconnect button and shoved his cell phone in his pocket. He wasn't more than two feet from the couch when a hand on his chest stopped him.

"Where do you think you're going?" Angel demanded.

"Um, with you. Seriously, Angel, lay off the hair gel. It's sinking in." Xander tried to detour around Angel, but Angel was the original immovable object when he wanted to be.

"You're not going."

"Give it up, you are not the boss of me even if you and Spike like pretending bossiness. Well, you actually don't have to pretend the bossiness part because you have that down, but being bossy does not make you the boss." Xander frowned, fairly sure that he had lost the logic of that argument somewhere in the middle.

"You're not going."

"And you can't stop me. Not unless you plan on standing here all night and letting Buffy get killed." Xander crossed his arms and glared. For a second, Angel stood there, a silent statue without a single emotion on his face. Then the stoic cracked and he made that weird cringing, snarling expression that meant he was really and truly pissed.

"Stay behind me." Angel turned and headed for the door. Spike was there, leanin' against the wall and watching with a smirk. "Shut up, Spike."

"Oi, didn't say a word!" Spike sounded offended, but he was still smirking. "If your knickers are in a twist over Xander, take it out on him, luv. Take it out all over him. It's bloody unhealthy taking your frustrations out on the wrong person, innit it, Xander?" Spike turned to him. Xander was not so stupid to miss the fact that the two vamps were talking about something other than frustration, but he was not getting in the middle of whatever weirdness they had going.

"This is me staying out of this." Xander followed Angel out to the car, refusing to even pay attention as Spike and Angel had one more little sniping war. They definitely enjoyed torturing each other.

By the time Angel pulled up in front of the frat house, he was almost strangling the wheel. Yep, as soon as everyone was safe, Angel was going to take Spike up to the roof and beat the snot out of him. He might throw him off the roof if Spike didn't stop with the weird references that weren't making any sense.

"Angel, Spike, Xander." Graham stepped out from behind a tree. Xander had to give the guy a whole lot of credit because his arm was still in a sling, and he didn't look more than a little totally terrified of being around Spike. Xander would have been running for the hills by now. "There was a woman screaming at the window, but I couldn't break the window to get to her." Graham looked over his shoulder at the very normal looking house... normal except for a definite lack of door where there should be a door.

"We'll get them." Angel pulled a crowbar out of his backseat and strode up to the house. Raising the crowbar like a baseball bat, he swung with all his might. Xander flinched, expecting to be picking glass shards out of Angel's arms for the next week, but the crowbar hit the glass and rebounded with a dull thudding noise.

"What the fuck?" Spike demanded. He hurried up the walk and practically yanked the crowbar out of Angel's hand. Angel just surrendered it and stepped back, watching as Spike attacked the window like a madman, the blows bouncing off until finally the crowbar flew out of Spike's hand and sailed up and over a tree. It hit the neighbor's house, and the long metal arm sunk deep into the wood siding.

Angel looked up at it for a second. "You're buying me a new crowbar."

Spike glared.

"Well, that was totally and completely not helpful." Xander climbed out of the backseat of the convertible and looked at the frat house. "Okay, so what's the next step?"

Before either vamp could admit total defeat, a little red truck pulled up behind the convertible. Giles got out of the passenger seat. "I take it that you haven't had any luck?" Giles asked.

"We just got here," Spike snarled. Giles didn't seem to notice though. While Jenny got out of the driver's side, he reached into the back of his truck and pulled out a chainsaw.

"Bloody hell, why don't you carry one of those, Peaches?" Spike demanded with a little bounce, so Xander was figuring all was forgiven. Angel just reached over and casually punched Spike in the arm hard enough to make him stumble to the side.

"Rupert, if this is magical, I should--" Jenny started to say. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had cat whiskers painted on her face. But then Giles was wearing a big ugly sombrero, so the whole night had a surreal vibe going.

"Jenny, as soon as we get inside, you may do whatever you like. However, I am going to find a way to reach Buffy." Without another word, Giles pulled the cord on the chainsaw and it roared to life with puffs of smoke. Walking up to the front, Giles shoved the chainsaw into the wood where the door should be. The whole house shivered as though in pain, and the sawdust flew. In just a couple of minutes, Giles had hacked a rough opening into the side of the building.

"Coming?" Giles asked, and he had more than a little of Spike's destructive glee in his voice, and with the chainsaw in his hand, he was slightly scary. Most of the time, Xander had trouble thinking of Giles as anything other than the school librarian, even now that the school was a big smoldering pile of ash. However, right now, he was looking like someone who might summon a demon. Jenny sighed and shook her head, but she hitched up a bag over her shoulder and followed him.

"You stay close," Angel growled at Xander before he headed for hole in the wall. Just as he reached the house, a woman came screaming out through the hole, her hair writhing with snakes.

"Bloody hell," Spike said as he watched her run. "Someone obviously didn't get the memo about demons taking the night off."

"Note to self. Demons need better secretarial staff," Xander agreed. Angel was already stepping in through the hole Giles had made, and Xander followed. He was barely in the door when a skeleton with one eye raised a knife to attack. Xander pulled his cinquedea at the exact same time that Angel kicked out, his boot hitting the skeleton's pelvis, making the bones fly apart and rattle to the floor.

Xander felt himself pulled backwards, and he just about skewered Spike before he realized his vamps were doing their normal overprotective thing. Angel looked over, his eyes yellow with anger. "Keep the retreat open."

"Got it," Spike agreed. Angel followed Giles and Jenny up the stairs, and another teenager went screaming by them, her face literally missing and the screaming sound just floating out from her body. "Fuck," Spike breathed, and he pulled Xander a little tighter.

"Okay, not to be obvious man, but neither one of us can fight worth shit if you're playing snuggle bunny," Xander whispered. Spike gave him a narrow-eyed glare, but at least he let Xander go.

"Don't leave me! Don't leave me!" Willow's voice echoed through the hallways. Xander looked at Spike for a moment, panic making his mouth go dry.

"No," Spike said firmly. Ignoring that order, Xander turned and darted up the stairs. To be honest, he really thought that Spike was going to catch him in two seconds, but he heard a vicious curse and the crashing of boards behind him. Turning around, Xander found a hole in the stairs, the edges looking suspiciously like teeth.

"Spike?"

"Stay back!" Spike yelled from somewhere in the basement. "Get Angel."

Xander looked around for something he could use as a rope or a ladder, but there was a big old nothing around. They had chains in the trunk of the car, but Angel had the keys. "Um, getting Angel. Right. Hold on," Xander called down. Looking down, he could see a flame burst to life and then Spike's vampire features were highlighted in red as he lit a cigarette.

"I'm fine, pet. Don't get your knickers in a twist and keep your head about you." Spike clicked his lighter off, and all Xander could see was the end of his cigarette floating.

"No twisty knickers. Got it," Xander agreed. "I'll be right back." Xander backed away from the hole and looked up the rest of the stairs to the second floor. Rushing into the house seemed so not-stupid two seconds ago, and now Xander was seriously reconsidering that decision. But Willow had needed help. Pushing aside the fear, Xander moved more slowly up the stairs, his cinquedea held up in a defensive pose.

Willow's scream filled the house, and Xander ran toward the sound. Willow came running at him, her hands flying around her head as a million little fireflies tried to eat her face. "Willow!" Xander ran to meet her, but she went running right past him and right past the top of the stairs and she kept running until she reached the far end of the hallway. "Willow?" Xander called as he chased after her. "Willow, random running bad." Xander watched as she ran into a door and fell to the ground. "And random stopping worse." Luckily most of the weird lights had gone right on through the door and vanished.

"Xander?" she looked up at him with teary eyes. "Is it really you?"

"Um, demons, weirdness, potential death—where else would I be?" he asked with his best goofy smile. Tears slipped down her face, but he knew her well enough to know that they were tears of relief. He held his hand out for her, and she let him pull her up.

"My magic is not working all that well."

"Um, I noticed," Xander agreed as he watched a little spark fighting to escape a tangle of red hair. "What do you say we find the door out?" Xander turned around to lead her back to the stairs, only to find a blank wall behind him. "Okay, that was not there two seconds ago."

"The house doesn't want us to escape," Willow whispered.

Just then, as if to agree with Willow, the house rumbled, "Release me. Release me!"

"Creepy frat boy sound system?" Xander asked hopefully. Willow shook her head.

Xander was feeling the beginnings of a good old-fashioned panic when Spike came striding down a new hallway that had opened up at a ninety-degree angle to the old one. "Right then, leave her," he snapped. Walking past Xander, he caught Xander by his left wrist and yanked Xander away from Willow.

"But, but!" Xander spluttered.

"Xander! Don't let him take you away!" Willow wailed as she chased them down the hallway. But Spike was dragging him so fast that Xander couldn't do anything more than stumble behind him and try to not stick Spike in the ass with his cinquedea. Spike was in a bad enough mood already. Without a word, Spike kicked through a door, the wood splintering under the force.

Behind the door, someone screamed, and then Spike dragged Xander into a room crowded with college boys and girls.

"Spike!" a familiar voice called out. Xander looked up to see Riley and Angel, both with very confused expressions.

Spike didn't answer; he snarled and dropped into a crouch in front of Xander.

"Spike?" Angel growled the name and stepped in front of Riley, who was looking about as confused as Xander was feeling.

"Not clan!" Spike snarled and tilted his head up as though he was sniffing the air.

"Leave him!" Angel's face rippled into his vampiric ridges.

"I'll eat his entrails!" Spike let out a roar that seriously creeped Xander out. He looked to Angel for help, but even with his vampiric features, Angel looked confused. Riley looked just flat out dumbstruck.

"Bloody hell. No fucking way is that supposed to be me," Spike said from the other side of the room. Wait. What? Xander looked around in confusion, and sure enough, there were two Spikes. One was standing near Buffy at the far end of the room looking confused, and the other was right in front of Xander doing his impression of a mindless fledge.

"This is new and weirdly disturbing," Buffy offered.

"Buffy!" Riley smiled, clearly relieved. He started heading across the room, and that's when feral Spike charged, his roar making the people crowded around the perimeter of the room cringe and cry out.

Xander gasped when Angel stepped forward and staked Spike, the dust exploding all over a pentagram drawn on the floor.

"Oi! You staked me! That was bloody unnecessary!" the other Spike complained as he strode across the room.

"That wasn't you," Angel said. "You weren't that bad even as a fledge."

Spike just snorted, and Xander couldn't quite figure out if that was a 'damn right' on the part where he'd never been that out of control or a 'how dare you' on the part where Angel had staked a vampire that looked weirdly Spike-like. While Riley hurried to Buffy's side, Angel walked to Xander and gave him a look that made it perfectly clear that they would be having words later about Xander's inability to stay near the exit.

"Willow was screaming," Xander said in his own defense. "Willow!" Xander turned back to the door, but the door wasn't there. Only then the door was and Willow came barreling through. "Get them off me! Get them off!" She was waving her hands around her head, but the flock of firefly lights was already gone. Oz stood up, and hurried over to her. "Willow. It's okay. They're gone."

"What's gone?" Buffy asked.

Oz just shrugged.

"Exit, stage left," Xander suggested, but when he turned, the door Willow had just come through was gone. "Or not."

"The house separated us. It wanted to scare us," Oz offered quietly. Xander couldn't really disagree with that logic.

"But—we got away." Willow looked up at Oz with this big-eyed hopeful expression, and all Xander could think was thank god that wasn't him. No way would he want to live up to the pressure of being the guy who got that look. That was a look that made it perfectly clear that Willow expected Oz to be able to fix the world. Oz turned and Xander spotted the nametag with "GOD" in block letters. He couldn't help it, a snort of laughter escaped.

"Sorry. Inappropriate time for humor," Xander apologized.

Buffy was already shaking her head with amusement. "Only you, Xander. But we aren't away. We got rounded up here. Why?"

"I'm guessing the big honking pentagram has something to do with something," Xander suggested, pointing down to the floor with the end of his cinquedea.

"Good guess," Buffy agreed. "This is why we never go anywhere without weapons. And you thought I was being all paranoid girl." Buffy used her elbow to nudge Riley, but from the startled look on his face, she needed to watch the slayer strength on those elbows.

"I think it's from this," Angel held up a book, an old book. He flipped the pages open. The house shivered and grumbled "Release me!" even louder than before. "It's the Mark of Gachnar," Angel said after finding what he was looking for.

"Oh great, another summoning. Do we not have enough demons already that we have to go borrowing them from other people?" Buffy asked.

"Hey, some of us like our demons," Xander replied. "And that came out really, really wrong, didn't it?"

"Just slightly," Buffy agreed.

"But it was effective distraction from the terror," Oz offered. Xander smiled at the peace offering.

"Release me!" the house bellowed. The walls shook and shivered until dust rained down on them from the roof and the random teenagers along the walls screamed in terror.

Angel looked up from the book. "It's feeding on our fears in order to bring itself into the world."

"So, we close our eyes and clap and say we DON'T believe? Okay, I don't think this thing is going to fall for the Tinkerbell approach," Xander offered. "That Spike-thing was real. And strong."

"And good-looking," the real Spike offered from his spot against the wall.

"I say we start trying random doors before they vanish," Xander said turning toward the only remaining door in the room. Angel caught him by the wrist and pulled him back so hard and fast that Xander oomffed against Angel's chest, which was good because Giles came bursting through, chainsaw in hand, Jenny trailing closely behind.

After that, Xander and his vampy family retreated to a corner and watched as Giles and Jenny read the book, Buffy accidentally finished the summoning by destroying the symbol, and she then squished the itty-bitty demon that emerged.

The house shivered once and then went silent.

"Bit of a build up for nothing," Spike complained as they all wandered back out to the car. College kids were swarming out of the building now that the exits had reappeared and the monsters had turned back into plastic bits and bobs.

"Not if he'd had enough fear to grow," Angel pointed out. "Besides, the night isn't over. We're going to talk about someone's inability to follow orders." At first, Xander thought he was the only one in deep shit, but then Angel's look turned to include Spike.

"Oi, I tried to bloody stop him. Damn stairs collapsed under me, and I couldn't get out of the basement until the slayer showed up. What I want to know is who the fuck conjured the feral version of me in there."

Xander frowned. "Conjured?"

Spike leaned against the car and pulled out a cigarette. "That house wasn't pulling random bogeymen out of the closet. It made the slayer face a hundred vamps all comin' up out of the ground at once, so I figure one of you conjured that handsome devil."

Xander frowned as he thought about that for a second. "Willow did."

"Willow?" Spike looked at him like he'd lost his mind, but Xander nodded.

"She needed help, and when the not-Spike pulled me away, she was yelling for him to not take me away from her."

Spike rolled his eyes. "That bint has a possessive streak about as wide as any vampire I've ever met. That's one that I sincerely hope never gets turned. So, whose fear was I watching in there when that doppelganger went for the soldier boy's neck?" Spike made the answer all-too obvious as he glared at Angel. Xander turned to face Angel, waiting for the denial. Instead Angel had a look on his face like he'd just found a rotting Hot Pocket in the microwave after a weekend trip to L.A. just because Xander had forgotten to take it out. Not a good look.

"You think Spike's going to go all fledge-like on Riley?" Xander asked.

"It could have been Riley's fear," Angel said entirely too quickly. Xander wasn't sure how Angel had survived a couple of centuries because people who lied that badly usually got eaten alive and spit back out during high school. For an adult to be so pathetically bad at lying was just pathetic.

"Wanker doesn't know enough to be afraid," Spike disagreed. "So, we going to talk about this or just ignore it?"

"Why would he even be afraid of that?" Xander asked Spike. When Angel got that pinched expression, he was never good at sharing information. However, Spike was perfectly willing to share all the gory details, even when Xander didn't want them.

"Vampire politics, pet. When two clans come into conflict, the two enforcers usually clash. The masters only get involved if it’s a full-out war."

"Okay, I'm still missing the meaningful part in the middle with all the meaning because that is not making sense."

"Riley could get lucky," Angel said, his voice clipped. He also turned his back and immediately went for the car. Xander scrambled to get in before Angel could leave them to walk.

"Wanker," Spike complained as he barely got in the car before Angel pulled away from the curb. "Do you really think I'd ever be threatened enough to want to seriously challenge that soldier-boy? I didn't snap Graham's neck." Spike leaned back and gave Angel a very smug look.

"And Buffy?" Angel asked.

"What about her?"

"She's growing up. She's becoming powerful. How long will it be before you feel a need to test your strength against her?" Angel was staring straight ahead, but Spike looked around, clearly confused.

"Spike?" Xander asked softly.

"Oi, not looking to fight the slayer. Mind you, I wouldn't mind taking her on if she started something, but I'm not looking to send my unlife tits over arse. Not again. Just look at the trouble you two got into last time I left you lot alone."

Angel flinched, but then Angel usually flinched when someone brought up anything Angelus-related. "Clans don't normally live this close, I'll give ya that. Are you feeling a need to challenge the slayer?" Spike asked as he studied Angel's profile, and now Xander was seriously freaked out. Buffy and Angel fighting was just a big old no.

"Of course not," Angel snapped.

"Right then, so we share territory with the soldier boys. Maybe we'll get lucky and something really big and nasty will come creepin' out of the Hellmouth and we'll have a chance to play before the soldier boys and their toys come barging in. Whoever summoned Gachnar might still be out there." Spike sounded so damn hopeful. "Maybe I should start comin' to more of these parties. If they're going to move up to demon summoning, I might be able to find a good fight. Actually," Spike looked over his shoulder at Xander, "with the demon summoning, I'm bloody surprised they didn't invite you over. You always seem to end up in the middle of all things demonic, luv."

"Okay, being a townie is one thing," Xander said with a snort, "but being the sort of loser townie who clings all over the college-bound and crashes their parties? That's a little too pathetic, even for me. Nope, I will sit back in my vocational tech classes and wait for their college-bound toilets to break and their college-bound electricity to fail and their college-bound cars to leave their pathetic little asses by the side of the road, and then I will force them to worship me as the fixer of all things broken. Behold the mighty power of the townie!" Xander held his arms up like a boxer winning the final round, and Spike laughed.

"You tell 'em, mate. It's not like you can fix the telly with poetry."

Xander frowned at that particular example, but then Spike winked at him. Yep, so not unintentional irony. Xander stared off into the dark for long minutes. They were passing a graveyard, but he could only see row after row of tombstones. Other than Buffy's demonic roommate, there hadn't been any serious threat at all. Spike had taken to patrolling the waterfront for human nasties and disappearing for days at a time just to avoid the sheer boredom. And Xander's voc-ed school wasn't the best what with all the money going to the university.

"Um, guys," Xander asked as Angel finally pulled up in front of the apartment complex.

"Yes?" Angel turned to look at him.

"Why are we still here?"

For a second, the two vamps exchanged curious expressions.

"Why are we still in Sunnydale?" Xander repeated as he waved his hands toward the generally quiet little town around them. "Face it, Giles could have done the rescuing tonight, because there's not exactly a big bad around. Angel's afraid that Spike is going to eat someone, Spike is bored, and I'm stuck in a town that's so small that the world is divided into townies and stuck-up college kids. Why? I always swore that when I grew up, I'd see the world—I'd move on, and this is not feeling moving-onish."

Xander looked first at Spike and then Angel. Slowly, Spike's expression turned into a smirk. Angel just had that face that kinda defined gobsmacked.

"You want to leave?" Angel asked. "You want to leave Buffy and Willow?"

Xander looked around at the quiet street, the short, fat apartment building, the distant street light with its sickly yellow glow. "I guess I'm wondering why we're staying. Angel, I love Buffy and Willow, but I'm not part of their life. I don't know. I just feel like—" Xander wrinkled his nose. He didn't know what he felt like, but he didn't feel like he belonged here.

"Our boy's done gone and grown up. We did a fine job with him, didn't we Ma?" Spike asked in a joking tone as he slapped Angel on the shoulder. Angel glared at him. "Oi, trust me, you were the mother figure around here," Spike said, but he also vaulted out of the car before Angel could hit him.

"Right then, I say we pull up stakes and axes and head for L.A." Spike pulled out a cigarette and took some time to light it.

"Why L.A.? I mean, they have a really good construction school there, but those are slightly dime-a-dozenish."

"Yeah, but I'm bloody tired of driving three hours every time Cordelia wants someone to look handsome on her arm," Spike said, and then he turned fast enough to make his coat billow before he headed into the apartments. For a second, Xander could only stare at the door as it slowly drifted closed.

"Did he just suggest he's dating Cordelia?" Xander asked weakly.

Angel got out the car and just shook his head fondly as he headed into the building.

"Seriously? Okay, I'm ... I'm so very glad they can't have kids. That would be terrifying."

"I think that's why they like each other," Angel pointed out when he reached the door. He pulled it open and waited. "If it upsets you—"

"No, no, it just creeps me out a little," Xander said as he went through the door first. Angel's hand landed on his back, but after tonight's incident, Xander expected extra touchy-feely Angel for a little bit. So, L.A. with Lorne and Cordelia and construction school. Xander felt a twinge of regret at the idea that he would be leaving Willow and Buffy and his mom and her new apartment with the tiny refrigerator and her new love of making him cookies when he came to visit. But he could still visit. Growing up meant moving on, and even with all the little threads tying him to this place, it was time to move on. Sunnydale didn't fit him, and it didn't fit his family, not any more.


	6. 6

"Ladies, gents, and demons of every kind, this is choice number three and a personal favorite of mine!" Lorne practically sang the words as he pushed through the double doors to the Spanish colonial building.

It had some nice details like stucco walls—although big chunks of plaster were falling off—a front courtyard, a terra cotta tile roof, ornamental fenestration, and decorative iron trim. Xander was so busy focusing on the bones of the old lady that he didn't notice that Angel had stopped in front of him. Okay, so he kinda noticed after hitting Angel's back. He had to grab Angel by the waist just to keep from falling on his butt.

"You've got the position backwards, pet," Spike offered with a laugh and an eyebrow wiggle as he looked from Angel to Xander. Xander yanked his hands away from Angel's ass and glared at Spike. Yep, Spike had officially gone on high alert for inappropriateness lately, and Xander could only guess that dating Cordelia was as frustrating for Spike as it had been for him. However, from the fact that Spike and Angel were still disappearing and reappearing with torn clothes and stupid smiles, Xander so thought that Spike would be less frustrated.

Blair made a sound that might have been a laugh strangled in the middle. "Man, I have never known two people who ran into each other as much as you two. Seriously Freudian. Seriously." Blair detoured around Xander, his hands held up in an expression of exaggerated surprise, before he followed Lorne into the building.

"We aren't buying this place," Angel said, his voice tight with emotion, and Xander frowned. That was sounding like Angel's 'don't fuck with me' voice, and yeah, home hunting was big on the annoyingness scale when you needed a home for a whole clan of people with sexually inappropriate habits, but he hadn't thought Angel was that out of patience yet.

Spike stopped looking around the weed-covered courtyard and looked over at Angel. "Peaches?"

"Problem?" Faith asked. She moved closer, her hand moving toward her jacket where she had more serious weaponry than Xander had seen hidden inside a coat since the last Highlander marathon. By giving up the hooker look, she'd picked up lots of new places to hide really sharp swords and knives and brass knuckles.

"No problem." Angel may have said no problem, but he was using his big-freaking-problem voice, which was not inspiring the confidence. "We should look at the next place."

"I'll get Blair." Faith darted around Xander to get into the hotel, and Xander recognized the sheer panic on Angel's face about a second too late to make a grab at her. And with Xander between them, Angel grabbed at her only to get tangled up in Xander. Xander clung to Angel's arm just to avoid falling, and getting knocked around was starting to become not only a theme but an annoying theme.

"Get her!" Angel said, his hands reaching out to steady Xander. Without a word, Spike darted past them and slammed through the double doors hard enough to send them slamming back into the wall. The thunderous crack suggested he'd done more than just cosmetic damage.

Xander opened his mouth to ask just what the hell had Angel wound tighter than a coil, but Angel was already running for the hotel, dragging Xander behind. Oh yeah, the big stupid vamp was not in a rational, sharing sort of mood.

"Now Sweetcheeks, I am not suggesting that you actually run a hotel," Lorne immediately started when they got into the lobby of the old building. Stone arcades led away into the deeper areas and an art-deco vibe met rococo details in a way that bordered on truly and disastrously tacky, but still managed to look kinda cool.

"Get her out," Angel snarled, and now he was using his big-freaking-problem voice and had a yellow-eyed glare going. Xander opened his mouth to demand some sort of explanation, but a rough chuckle suddenly filled the room, circling around them like a cold wind. Xander gasped as he was pushed back behind Angel so fast that his arm ached where Angel had grabbed him. Then he spotted the wavering air drifting down the wide staircase looking like a big blob of water hovering above the stairs.

"What the fuck?" Faith yanked her arm out of Spike's grip and took a defensive stance with her big freaking huge sword already out. Xander reached for his own cinquedea.

"The realtor left this bit out of the advertising." Lorne was already backing up, his green hand pulling Blair with him.

"Whoa. Okay, I'm voting for running away," Blair whispered.

"I second the running and raise some girly screaming," Xander agreed.

"Too late," Angel said grimly, but he wasn't looking at the waterish blob that was closing in—he was looking at Faith. One glance in that direction, and Xander did a double take. Faith had reversed her position and was holding her sword out to ward off Spike.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Spike demanded, but Xander noticed that he was keeping himself away from Faith's sword.

"You're talking about me with her, aren't you?" Faith demanded. Spike looked over at Angel, and from the look, Spike had no idea what was going on. Faith's voice grew dangerously soft. "You found another bed warmer, and that's all I ever was, wasn't I? Does Cordelia keep your prick all warm now?" She leered unpleasantly.

"Bloody hell, what the fuck crawled up your arse and died?" Spike demanded.

"I should have fucking known." Faith's face twisted into something ugly. "That whole story about wanting me to help pick the place, about wanting me to be a part of the clan again, that's all another fucking lie. What, did someone want a quick fuck? Does someone want to play Daddy and spank the bad, bad slayer?"

Blair took a single step forward. "Faith? Whoa there. You are seriously freaking me out."

"And you have to be fucking gay," she said as she poked a finger in Blair's direction. "Or maybe I'm just too old for you. Maybe you like 'em when they're so little that you can suffocate them with the stink of alcohol when you lay on them. Maybe you like to hear a little girl cry. Is that your game? Is that why you don't want to fuck me now that I'm strong enough to defend myself?" Faith stalked toward Blair, the sword up. Blair almost tripped over his feet as he backed up, and Angel reached out and grabbed Blair, pushing him back toward Xander.

"Hey, I have an idea. Maybe we could put the man-skewering sword away," Xander said hopefully.

Instead of putting it away, Faith swung it in Xander's direction. "It's your fault. It's your fault I lost my family."

Faith's face was twisted with pain, an expression that drove the air out of Xander as fast as a fist in the stomach. Yep, he was officially going to hell. He knew Faith was big with the sex issues, and yeah, he only knew about the whole sex and father issues after he slept with her, but he was still so hell bound. He'd slept with a rape victim. He'd slept with a rape victim who'd only wanted a little reassuring, and sex and rape victims were not big with the healthy mixing, at least not without a little therapy. A little voice whispered warnings in the back of his head. No way would Faith ever forgive him for that. Because of him, she had lost the only safe haven she'd ever had. He couldn't even blame her if she wanted to go killing him, but the feeling that she was going to kill him? That was definitely getting way stronger.

"You're trying to kill me. I know you are. I know I'd kill to not lose our family, and you are way less with the mentally stable than I am," Xander accused her.

"Oh man. Right now, no one is getting a passing grade on the mental health portion of this outing," Blair said as he backed away.

"Faith, Xander," Angel started, his voice low and quiet, "you can't listen to the whispers. They aren't real. You are both family, and you always will be." Angel reached for Xander, but he darted backwards. If Faith was going to try and kill him, no way did Xander want to be too near Angel. Angel was a vampire, and vampires had this whole thing going where they respected the strong. And no way was Xander ranking high in the strength category, not unless he was getting compared to Buffy's idiot soldier boys. Nope, Xander was the weak link, and in vampire families, the weak link got eaten. "You are not eating me!" Xander said as he pointed from Angel to Spike.

"Don't even play that game." Faith sounded furious and oddly unemotional at the same time, which was a pretty damn good trick. "He's always going to side with you. You both just want to find a way to get rid of me. Spike was the only one who had any use for me, and now he can just stick his cock in Cordelia, can't he?"

"Fucking hell. Someone better tell me what the bloody fuck is going on or I'm going to set this whole place on fire!" Spike exploded. Xander watched Spike's anger with a cold fear in his guts. Spike was dangerous. He didn't even understand Spike half the time, and why did he live with someone who he didn't understand when that person considered humans one of the five essential food groups along with Weetabix and onion rings?

"It's a Thesulac demon," Angel said softly. "Faith, the voice you hear, the whispers, they're lying to you."

"No way, man." Blair started backing away, shaking his head slowly. "You're just trying to pull us all in. You hold out this clan like there's some chance for us to fit in, but no way. You're going to yank all of it away. Totally unfair. And then we'll be alone... again." Blair sucked in a breath. "The minute we're out of the room you're talking about how we don't fit in. This is your idea of a mind game, isn't it? Angelus was always one for playing mind games."

Faith was already shaking her head. "No. It's more than just a mind game. I fucked up too damn much. You know, I think I know how to fuck up less now, but I fucked up too much with you. I fucked Xander, and you won't ever forgive me for that. He won't forgive me. Fuck. You shouldn't forgive me." Faith raised her sword. Xander blinked as his brain tried to figure out that statement. In his universe, Faith didn't feel guilt for much, and she didn't ever feel guilt for the whole sex in the graveyard incident. If he brought it up, she either complimented him on his driving around curves or just ignored him, and both reactions made him a little twitchy.

Xander could feel his hands tremble, the cinquedea shook, the weight of it fighting him, but anger rose up and crashed through him like a wave, and he brought his weapon up. Yeah, Faith might talk about the whole sex thing had been her fault, but Xander knew the truth. So if she was lying it was because she was about to take a shot at killing him, and she wanted to get Angel on her side first. Xander focused on Faith, his anger making him want to charge into a fight with her even though he knew he was so getting his ass kicked.

The bit of air that had turned to a waterish blob thickened until a vague human outline appeared. "I don't remember ordering take-out, but I like what you brung me," an amused voice offered. "Absolutely delectable. The paranoia is all there, right under the surface and I just have to scratch off a thin layer of common sense." The form shimmered and then a demon with a pale, diseased face and black cloak appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"You fucking wanker. This is your doing, innit?"

"Guilty as charged. This place has always provided such pleasant feasts. So, who is going to feed me their fears first?"

Spike stretched his neck one way and then the other, a prelude to a fight that Xander had seen a hundred times. "You want a fight, mate? First come, first killed." Spike's vampiric features rippled as they came to the front, and he became the beast who wasn't human. Xander watched the inhuman movements, the gleeful anticipation of violence, the yellow glare. This was a predator and Xander was definitely more preylike than predatorlike.

"Everyone listen to me." Angel looked around, and Xander watched him suspiciously. "This demon is feeding you your own fears. We are all clan here... we are family. You have to focus on that." Xander frowned, Angel's words making no sense because he knew he and Faith wanted to kill each other. He wasn't sure why, but he knew they did. He raised his cinquedea.

Angel turned toward the demon and pulled his own sword. "You had your last meal here a long time ago. You should have gotten out when you had the chance." Angel circled around to one side while Spike stalked in perfect counterpoint. Xander shook his head, struggling to clear his thoughts. This was familiar. Angel and Spike moved together by moving apart, forcing the target to split his attention. Only the demon wasn't splitting his attention, he was looking at Faith.

"Got out? Now, why would I wanna do that? When the room service in this hotel is still excellent. Paranoia is like fine wine. Only now, you've brought me a whole new vintage, something hearty with the," he sniffed the air deeply, "aroma of anger and insecurity and paranoia. Oh, this one is special."

Faith was frozen, her sword pointed toward the ground, and she didn't even react to the tentacle snaking out toward her.

"Faith, duck!" Xander yelled. When she didn't react, he leaped forward and brought his cinquedea down on the tentacle, hacking the tip of it off. The demon roared and Angel and Spike attacked at the same time.

"Sweetcheeks, I would suggest you come away from there," Lorne suggested from the doorway. Yep, he was ready to run, but he wasn't running yet. Considering the guy was basically a bartender and lounge singer, Xander didn't exactly expect him to stick around and fight the good fight.

"I'm not leaving Faith," Xander yelled. The room was full of sound without meaning, a roar like the wind only without wind. Faith's sword was now pointing at the ground, and she was almost trembling, so Xander could only hope she wasn't going to stab him through the back.

"Neither of us are," Blair said as he appeared at Faith's side. "Faith, can you hear me?"

Xander set himself in front of Blair and Faith and defended from tentacles that kept snaking toward Faith as Spike and Angel attacked in a flurry of swords and fangs. Spike darted in, using his bare hands to rip part of the demon's cloak and one of his tentacles off, but the demon reached out with a second tentacle, wrapping it around Spike's neck. Raising Spike up, he shook until Spike's hands dropped to his sides. Then the demon slammed Spike's head into the floor several times, each one making a dull thudding noise. With bare hands, Spike ripped at the tentacle until his hands were red and the tentacle was frayed.

On the other side, Angel used his sword to sever a couple of tentacles which writhed on the floor behind him. A third tentacle snapped at him like a whip, and Angel rolled, coming to his feet so near a cluster of tentacles that Xander shouted. Angel drove his sword down through two of the tentacles, pinning them to the floor beneath. A stray tentacle whipped out toward Xander, and he took a swing at it. He missed and sunk his sword deep into the wood. Unfortunately, that meant he was stuck trying to retrieve it.

Blair yelled, and Xander glanced over his shoulder to see Blair getting dragged toward the demon. Oh yeah, they were getting their asses kicked. For a second, Faith stood there, her face still twisted by fear and confusion.

"Blair, hold on," Xander yelled. That made Faith blink, her head tilting to the side as she slowly swung her gaze over toward Blair. Xander was still fighting with his weapon, but Blair was holding his own. He'd grabbed the edge of the built-in circle-couch-sitting thingy, and he was kicking the tentacle with his free leg.

"Blair?" Faith sounded dazed.

"A little help would be good!" Blair kicked at the tentacle and then shouted as a second tentacle grabbed his free leg.

Xander pulled harder at the stuck sword. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"

When Faith exploded into movement, Xander instinctively huddled down, still half-expecting her to attack him, but she leaped over him and sliced the two tentacles that had captured Blair's feet. Spike had fought his way free of the tentacle that had been strangling him, and he darted to Faith's side.

"Right then, you got your head on straight or are you still doin' your best impression of Dru?"

"Don't fucking start with me," Faith warned. Spike smiled widely and danced to the side before darting in and punching at the demon's main body.

"We got our girl back!" Spike called out.

"Watch the flank!" Angel growled before throwing a knife at the demon's head. The thing hit and then just stayed stuck there without slowing the demon down much.

"I am watching it, wanker!" Spike leapt over a number of tentacles, and just how many tentacles did this thing have?

The demon turned his face toward Faith. "You are my creature. I can taste your despair like fine chocolate."

"Fuck you," Faith said grimly. She leaped up into the air so fast that she could have been a vampire. Bringing her sword down, she hit him straight on the top of the head, her sword passing through bone with a deafening crack. Her sword kept moving until it hit the collarbone, and blood sprayed out. The Thesulac screamed and then in a blinding white pop of light, it was just gone.

Xander's sword finally came out of the floor with a screech of metal against wood.

Spike backed away, stretching and bouncing on his toes. "Don't rightly remember house hunting being all this fun before."

"Shut up, Spike," Angel replied. Walking over, he pulled his own sword out of the floor, and Xander flinched at the fingernails-down-a-chalkboard sound that made. Angel looked over at Blair. "You aren't part of the clan? I'm just playing a mind game with you to make you think you're part of the clan?"

Blair snorted. "Oh man, old history. I could have told you I had abandonment issues. But that... whoa. There is never a dull moment with you people, is there?" Blair sounded okay, but he was half lying on the couch thingy, and he didn't look ready to get up any time soon.

Angel walked over and offered Faith a hand. She had fallen to one knee when the demon went 'poof' and now she looked up at him for several silent seconds before putting her hand in his and allowing him to help her.

"I was going to..." Faith stopped.

Angel got his guilt look going. "I know. I was here a long time ago. The demon feeds people their worst emotions, and even now I could feel the pull."

Spike snorted, and Xander realized that he understood exactly what Spike wasn't saying. Why had he ever thought Spike was too dangerous for him to be around?

"Yeah, yeah, but some of us don't always have our evil side going," Xander told Spike. "If your big, bad evil side comes out to play, you're pretty much still Spike. Now me? I was all prepared to do battle with Faith, not that battling Faith makes any sense because I was feeling guilty about the whole sex thing even while I plotted murder, and that is making sense of the not-even kind."

"You were feeling guilty?" Faith looked at him like he had just grown another head.

"Hey, I have a right to some guilt here," Xander defended himself. And Faith was still looking at him like he was growing more and more heads with every passing minute. "I knew you were all with the issues, and I still slept with you. I didn't even ask you why you wanted to sleep together or take two seconds to figure out your recent weirdness probably had something to do with it. I get to carry a little guilt for that," Xander pointed out. He really hated saying things like that out loud, but his therapist had been right about one thing: the more he said it, the less it hurt when he thought about it.

"So, you think I'm broken?" Faith had gone from confused to angry in less than a second, but at least this time she didn't have her homicidal face going.

Xander might have defended himself, but Blair interrupted by making one of his weird little noises. "With your definition of broken, we're all fitting in that category," he told her.

"Oi!" Spike objected.

"Do not make me repeat some of the stories Uncle Saul has told me." Blair held up a finger in Spike's general direction, and Xander was amazed at how fast that shut the vamp up. Oh yeah, Blair had some good stories in there somewhere. "Anyway," Blair said, exaggerating an eyeroll as he turned his attention back to Faith, "I have major abandonment issues. I love Naomi, but she was a little on the flaky side, and the whole part-demon ancestry did a real number on me. My own grandfather, Naomi's dad, tried to kill me when I was just out of diapers because he was convinced I was some spawn of Satan come to bring the end of the world. Seriously, that will give you issues. So, Naomi took me on the road, and we are not talking about an exactly stable environment. And you should have seen Xander when I first met him. Angel actually convinced his parents to sell him to a vampire, and he was so not dealing. Totally not dealing." Blair gave a shudder. "I first met Angel during his rat-eating period, and after seeing both you and Angel at your worst, Angel wins on that front."

"Hey! I wasn't that bad," Xander defended himself weakly before dropping on the couch next to Blair. Yeah, he'd been pretty screwy in the head after that.

"And I knew this demon was here, at least I knew sixty years ago that I left him to prey on all the humans in this building." Angel looked up at the stairs that led to the guest rooms. "He preyed on my fear that I wasn't one of them. He turned them against me, and then he convinced me to walk away and let all these people die. I had finally started sleeping in a bed and exchanging a few words with humans as I passed them in the hall, and after I stayed at this place...." Angel closed his eyes.

"You ended up back in alleys eating rats," Xander guessed. Pushing himself up, he closed the distance between them and leaned into Angel. Angel nodded as he moved his arm to catch Xander in a one-armed hug.

"I did."

"Right then, so you lot are all fucked up. Now that we have that sorted, what I want to know is why this thing is still hanging around an empty hotel." Spike's words made them all look at each other in confusion.

"She wouldn't be," Angel said softly, and from the tone, whoever the 'she' was, he was thinking she definitely was, whatever the 'was' was. Without an explanation, Angel bounded up the stairs, and Xander ran after him. From the thundering on the stairs behind him, they had the whole company following. "Her one fear was of being trapped, of being sent to jail and being locked in somewhere. She couldn't still be here." Angel pushed open a door, and an old woman turned to look at him.

"Judy." Angel breathed the word.

"I don't hear them anymore. - Are they gone?" The woman's eyes looked around, and Xander knew right away that her train didn't pull all the way into the station anymore. She had that vague spaced out look that Grandmother Lavelle had a few weeks before she'd just dropped dead.

Angel carefully moved to right in front of her. "Yes, they're all gone," he promised.

The old woman must have finally seen Angel because she smiled. "It's you."

"Yeah, Judy. It's me."

"You look the same."

"I'm not the same. I shouldn't have left you here. I'm so sorry." When the old woman reached for Angel's face, he caught her hand and held it.

"They killed you - because of me. I killed you." A tear slipped out. Xander had no idea who this woman was and what she had done, but he could feel her pain and guilt like a living creature in the room. Nothing a person did ever deserved this kind of punishment.

"No. You were afraid, and you turned them against me, but they made their choices. They chose to try and kill me, and I chose to leave you here alone when I knew how afraid you were. This was all the demon's fault." Angel released her hand, and she raised it up and cupped his cheek. Xander felt a stab of something cold as he watched Angel's face soften as he looked at her. Okay, he was guessing former lover. Former screwed over lover who had done her best to screw Angel, but in real life, that was the way most love stories went.

"He kept them from the door. He told me I'd be safe. Am I safe?" She looked around as though expecting someone to attack her. Then again, considering how many of them were armed, that wasn't all that weird. Xander quietly slipped his cinquedea back into its sheath and he noticed Faith did the same with her sword.

"You're safe. No one has been looking for you for a very long time." Angel turned to face them. "She stole money after she was fired for having a black grandparent. Back then, a black person passing for white was scandalous. She came here looking for a place to hide, and this became her prison."

Spike pulled out a cigarette. "Fair enough, but why the fuck do we care?"

Xander hit Spike in the stomach at the same time that Faith backhanded him across the arm. "Wot?" Spike demanded in a tone of voice that suggested he was the injured party.

"Man, you so have issues. I'm not stupid enough or strong enough to hit you for them, but you so have issues," Blair muttered softly. He moved to Angel's side. "Did you say your name is Judy?" Blair asked softly.

The old woman nodded. "Can I go outside now?"

"How long has she been in here?" Xander whispered soft enough that, hopefully, she wouldn't hear. Angel and Blair were carefully helping her stand.

"Looks like the late forties or early fifties," Spike said as he looked around the room. He totally had his normal tone of voice going. Yep, you could count on Spike to have lots and lots of sympathy for any family members who were neck deep in shit. Xander was starting to think Cordelia might even be one of the neck-deep people who Spike was going out of his way to care for, but you just could not ask him to care about random humans.

"Can I feel the sun? I haven't felt the sun in so long."

"It's night, so you'll have a wait a little while for the sun," Blair soothed her. "Angel, I think we should contact social services. She's going to need care."

"I..."

"Forget it. You have enough taking care of your humans," Blair cut him off, but he kept his voice that same soft sing-songy tone that Xander normally associated with his kindergarten teacher who used to read them stories in that voice. Angel and Blair slipped out of the room, supporting the old woman between them.

"We're never going to find a place at this rate," Spike complained, and then he followed. Of course, knowing Spike he was just looking for someplace he could smoke without Angel yelling at him about human lungs and cancer.

"Xander." Faith stopped him with a word as Xander turned to follow Spike out the door. "Thank you."

"Hey, I was 'getting his sword stuck in the wood' boy, so go thank Spike and Angel. They were the ones actually making a difference," Xander answered with a shrug. For a second, Faith just looked at him, emotions flickering on her face so fast that Xander couldn't really identify them before they were gone.

"No, it's not that." She took a deep breath. "I really wanted to kill you down there."

"Hey, I was just as big with the wanting, although I'm guessing that if it came down to it, I would not have been doing much of the actual killing. I would have been more with the dying."

Faith broke eye contact, and Xander choked off a desire to babble, to fill this awkward moment with words—with any words—just to avoid the sudden seriousness that had invaded the room. Or maybe the seriousness had stayed when Blair and Angel had helped the old woman out. Xander was pondering the odds of a serious demon hanging around when Faith finally cleared her throat.

"You put your back to me."

"I did?" Xander looked up at her.

"When the demon attacked, you knew I wanted to hurt you, and you still put your back to me. Your first thought was to defend me, and I think that's what gave me the ability to see through the demon's lies. Your only thought was to defend me, so I knew he was lying."

"Well, um..." Xander cringed, "my first thought was to kill you. My second thought was to defend you because even if I thought you were going to kill me, you were still family."

"I was going to kill you." Faith's voice rasped with guilt. She actually had to clear her throat.

"I got that," Xander agreed. "You'd be surprised at how many people have tried to kill me. Actually, you'd be surprised at how many people I like have tried to kill me. Did I ever tell you how Angel and I really started getting to know each other? Let me tell you, he totally wanted to kill me." Xander smiled at her. Slowly, she smiled back. Something hard and jagged that had been lying between them all this time without Xander ever noticing melted.

"Angel wanted to kill you? No way. You have that boy wrapped around your finger," she said. She shoulder-bumped him, a gesture she hadn't used with him since before the whole disaster. Actually, she hadn't touched him at all since that weird night when she'd decided that throwing him down and having sex was a good way to deal with her issues.

"Oh yeah," Xander agreed. He bumped her shoulder back before heading for the door. "Angel was all Buffy-whipped back then. Anyway, I was coming home from the store and I got jumped by these vamps..."

Xander told her the story as they headed down the stairs. Judy was wandering around the lobby, touching objects as if she had never seen any of them before. Apparently the telephone was a wondrous thing. Blair was hovering at her side. Lorne was busy describing how perfect the basement was and trying to convince Angel that he didn't need to run a hotel, but if he just let some of Lorne's clients stay inside his clan lair for a night or two, they would bring a nice tribute to show their appreciation. Spike was standing by the door smoking and just looking disgusted that his beautiful fight had degenerated into this. Yep, this was his family. It was definitely time for the move to LA, and Xander suspected that Lorne was wasting his breath. From the way Angel was looking around, he was already planning on where he wanted the furniture.


	7. 7

"Buffy!" Xander called, trotting to catch up with her as she headed away from Giles' house. He was lucky because she didn't even have Riley with her, and the lack of audience was, hopefully, going to make this less with the painful.

"Xander!" Buffy smiled at him. "There's still pizza left, if Graham hasn't inhaled the last piece. I thought you were murder on the pizza, but Riley's guys can definitely challenge your eating crown."

"I lost the crown to you long ago," Xander pointed out as he closed the distance between them. He wasn't even surprised when she aimed a mock punch for his stomach.

"Hey, that's your serious face," Buffy said, her smile falling away as she really looked at him.

"No, more my, 'I'm going to say something that you aren't going to like even though it's not really bad' face. They look the same." Xander grinned at him and shrugged.

"Okay." Buffy sounded suspicious. "Can we do the walk and talk thing?" She poked a thumb down the street toward downtown.

"Big bad?"

"More like big moderately annoying. There's a rash of cavemen running around downtown clubbing each other and randomly grunting. Giles is guessing Hellmouthy fun."

"Hellmouthy cavemen?"

"Which are probably less cavemany than spelled or drunk or maybe escapees from the drama department, but they're more than likely of the human variety, which is why I am Rileyless tonight."

"I think I missed the logic in there, somewhere."

Buffy shrugged and wrinkled her nose. "He's big with wanting to arrest the humans who are up to Hellmouthy fun."

"And this would be bad because?" Xander walked beside Buffy, watching her as she made that face like when the chemistry teacher asked her to explain osmosis. Xander had long ago decided that some demons, like Blair, were on the side of good, and some people, like his father, definitely weren't. Of course, his father was way too drunk to actually cause Hellmouthy fun, but if he did, he shouldn't get a free pass because he was human.

Eventually Buffy sighed. "As someone who very nearly spent her teen years in juvenile detention after a slight case of burning down a gym, I'm prejudiced against holding supernatural weirdness against a person. Sometimes arson just happens."

"And weirdly, I agree," Xander admitted. "But I don't think that means everyone gets a free pass just because of their humanness. There are a few people who I might consider turning over to the military. Ethan Rayne comes to mind."

Buffy shivered. "Do not go there. Okay, seeing Jenny Calendar and my mother in a bitch-slap fight over Giles? That permanently scarred me. Permanently. I will never recover."

Xander had totally forgotten the band candy bit. He was more thinking the getting Angel possessed by the demon Giles and Ethan had summoned, and then the Halloween when he'd done the Janus spell. Put that together with the band candy, and Ethan really did deserve a very small cell and a very big cellmate named Bubba. "Band candy. Oh yeah, I forgot that."

"You forgot that? How could you forget that?"

"I was distracted by the way he shoved new memories into us on Halloween."

Buffy stopped walking. "Oh yeah. You know, for a holiday that demons take off, we do always have the demony Halloweens around here. Take this year. At least this year's demon squished easily, which cannot be said of Ethan Rayne or cavemen." With a shrug she kept walking. "Weirdly, you may be pointlike on that whole arrest point."

"It sometimes happens."

"Yeah, just don't rub it in. Jenny has been on the same point, and I've been slightly avoidy. Actually, Jenny and Riley have been similarly pointlike, but pretty much any pointiness Jenny comes up with I'm pretty much avoiding."

"Trouble in slayersville?"

She shrugged. "Same old, same old."

"And I'm missing the same. What's up?"

Buffy stopped, and this time she sat on a bus bench. For a second, she stared up at the dim stars, the light of which barely filtered through the California smog and the glow of the city. "It's just this whole pseudo-step-mother jealousy issue I have going with Jenny. I know that Giles needs his own life, but there's this little part of me that keeps remembering that when my real father tried to have his own life, his life quickly became Buffyless."

"Ouch," Xander said softly.

"Yeah, but it's not like your father is winning father of the year." Buffy blurted the words out, but then she cringed back, as if she'd just spotted demon goo. "Okay, that was bitchy, wasn't it?"

"Only slightly and entirely," Xander agreed. But then again, the words didn't exactly hurt. His father wasn't winning father of the year. He'd sold Xander, blown every cent of money that he got from Angel, and had then turned on Xander's mom when she tried to make a better life for herself. He was pretty much slime, so calling him slime felt less insulty than truthful.

"Giles asked Jenny to marry him."

"Whoa. And the reasons for the issues keep on coming."

"Yeah."

"You okay with it?"

She gave a dark laugh. "Totally not. But I'm thinking that it's unhealthy for me to let myself transfer my dad issues onto Giles."

Xander sat next to her. "That's sounding weirdly adultish and mature and a little like you're channeling my second therapist."

"I'm channeling Riley." Buffy sighed and leaned into him, her shoulder pressing against his. "It really sucks to be all whiny around a psych major because he tends to be way more about constructive improvement than wallowing. Sometimes I just want to wallow. Of course, wallowing is all shallow and unhelpful, so I guess I should be grateful to have someone around who reminds me to face my issues, huh?"

"That's sounding very weirdly adultish," Xander offered.

"Are you saying I'm not mature?" Buffy frowned, but she also had that teasing tone in her voice.

"Hell no. I'm way smarter than to say something like that to someone who can break me into little tiny pieces." Xander slung his arm around Buffy's shoulders just about the same time she backhanded him in the stomach. "Ow! Okay, the whole part where I didn't say anything, I was not saying things so I would not get hit," he pointed out.

"Don't think them so loud then."

Xander rolled his eyes. This was comfortable... familiar. He loved Angel and Spike and even Faith, but a little part of him—or a not so little part of him—was going to miss his old life. For a half second, Xander wondered if he was doing the right thing by moving. Then again, it sounded like Riley was pretty much being feet-on-the-ground guy these days. Xander couldn't contribute much in terms of slaying or magic or computers, so his big contribution had been sharing the cold, unvarnished truth, and Riley seemed to be moving in on that territory.

He tightened his arm around Buffy's shoulders. "Seriously, though, it actually sounds like you're dealing. Either that or you're really listening to way too much Oprah Winfrey."

"Yeah, well I sometimes accidentally listen in my psych class, only don't tell anyone because it would totally ruin my rep."

"Your secret is safe with me."

Buffy leaned over, her head resting on his shoulder. "You know, you might like college. Yeah, it's a little like high school what with the tests, but it's more interesting. They teach you all kinds of gross and disturbing things in history class that we totally skipped over in high school. I mean, seriously, your grades were no worse than mine, and I'm holding my own."

There was a day that a suggestion like that would have brought Xander running. Had he always been such a follower? Yeah, he pretty much knew the answer to that one. However, he had a choice about who he followed. "Maybe I just don't want that, Buffy," he said softly.

"What can you do with your life without a college education?" Pulling away from him, she looked at him with wide, serious eyes.

"Oh, I don't know. Learn a trade, get a good job, meet the love of my life and settle down, try to not fuck up my kids as bad as my parents kinda fucked me up. I mean, really. I can't afford the therapy bills. I don't know how Angel affords me. Actually, I'm sort of serious about that. I really honestly don't know how Angel affords me."

Buffy punched him in the arm gently. "Okay, I get that you don't really want to do four more years of classes and teachers."

"Buffy, please don't take offense and punch me or something, but you are really being overly blonde."

She gave him a second gentle punch. "You know, if I didn't like you so much, I really might hit you for that. And while I am blonde, I am not being blonde. You could take some classes."

Xander took a second to rub his arm as he considered his answer. It was important to him that the girls understand, but he wasn't sure how to explain to them just how different his world was. They used to share dreams—things like not having the world blow up and surviving high school and not having the parental find out about the sneaking around. And yeah, they still shared the goal to avoid world ending, but their other goals had sort of split a way back. He sighed as he stared up at the dim stars.

"But I don't want to take classes. Look, Buffy, I'm really glad you're much less with the hating college, but I really don't want to do the school thing. I'm good with my hands." Xander looked down at his hands. He'd developed calluses from his plumbing class and he had a thin scar on one finger from where he'd accidentally touched a pipe he'd just heated with a torch. He had workman's hands. "I enjoy construction. I like doing something with my hands, and then, at the end, seeing something that I actually created. I helped build a house for Habitat for Humanity. I like seeing that house standing there, although giving a poor person a house on the Hellmouth is not feeling like a particularly nice thing to do."

Buffy still looked worried. "I guess I'm just weirded out because it always felt like school united us, even when we weren't doing the uniting. I mean, even after the whole Kendra disaster, we were still there, together, at school. I miss seeing you around. You know, you could just come and hang out with us. There's a really cool student lounge in the dorm."

"And non-collegy guy hanging out in a girls' dorm--that's not going to look funny."

She shrugged. "Okay, it might look slightly funnyish."

"Slightly. Besides, the commute is going to be hell." Xander watched Buffy out of the corner of his eyes, watching as she slowly stiffened and turned to face him. She didn't look exactly happy. For a second, she just blinked at him, her mouth opening a couple of times before she managed to actually say something.

"Are you trying to say you're moving?"

"Um, I think the commute thing sort of implied it because I'm finding it way hard to say it."

"You're moving away?" Buffy collapsed back so fast that the bench groaned dangerously. Then Buffy just stared at him. And cue the awkward silence. Xander had never wished for a vampire attack quite so much.

"Are you mad?" he eventually asked.

Her nose wrinkled. "It depends. How far are you moving away?"

"Not far," he promised. "Just LA, which means I'm close enough to come back and visit for all birthdays, national holidays and world endings."

"We seem a little short on the world endings, but with Riley's group, we have lots and lots of birthdays, and I want you here for every single one of them. Got it, mister?" Buffy poked him in the chest with her finger, and, unlike when she punched him, it actually hurt.

"Got it," he agreed while he rubbed the sore spot she'd left in the middle of his chest.

"Are you doing something great and exciting down in LA?"

"Enrolling in a technical college, so I'm going to be kinda-collegy guy, although I'll be studying construction. Oh, and Angel bought this totally trashed hotel. I mean, the foundation and plumbing is solid, but I'm going to be renovating it for the rest of my life. But hey, I bet I can get my teachers to give me extra credit." Xander smiled at the thought of just how much work there was. Yep, color him insecure, but he was never going to feel like worthless-guy at the Hyperion.

Buffy smiled at him. "I really am glad, you know."

"I really am glad you're glad." They both sat on the bench and looked out into the night. Xander wasn't exactly sure what he should do now, although a little cowardly voice suggested that he have Buffy tell Willow and the others. Okay, that was a hugely cowardly voice because Willow had been his best friend longer than anyone. Yeah, she totally threw him over for Amanda in the third grade and again for Buffy when Buffy had shown up their sophomore year, but that didn't erase their shared history of arson and yellow crayons and crying. She'd been his best friend longer than anyone, and maybe that was why he was so totally terrified to tell her. She was going to give him Willow eyes.

"Is this feeling awkward?" Buffy asked.

"You noticed."

"Yep. Hard to miss what with all the awkwardness."

Xander had to admit that was true. "How does Oz always make the long silences look all cool?"

"He's Oz." Buffy nodded wisely. "He has lots of Ozness. It's a nice balance for Willow, who has a definitely lack of Ozness, and there will be more than just awkwardness going when you tell her."

"Of this, I am aware."

Buffy stood up and held out her hand for him. "You know what? Cavemen can wait. We really do need to go tell Willow, and hopefully she will not be practicing any big wiccan mojo because Willow and stress and magic are not a good combination, and you, mister, are the bringer of stress."

"Gee, thanks for making this awkwardness even more with the awkward." Xander put his hand in Buffy's and let her pull him up.

"I live to please."

"Who exactly is this supposed to please?"

She smiled at him as they started walking back towards Giles'. Her hand was still in his, and Xander tightened his grip. He might be moving, but she would always be part of his life. He just needed to have a little more space so he had room to be more about him and less about the Hellmouth. "Well," Buffy started with her bright-and-cheerful voice, "Giles has been all cranky with me ever since I walked in on him and Jenny, although Riley thinks it's more about me not getting over the extreme and ungetoverable horror of walking in on them. But either way, Willow is going to be so totally weirded out that this will eclipse my weirdness, so I guess this is pleasing me."

"You know, when you talk like that, you and Spike have way, way too much in common."

"Hey, no need for insults." They walked down the quiet streets. "Xander?"

"That's my name... except when I'm under a spell and think I'm Sergeant Slaughter."

Buffy ducked her head. "I'm sorry I'm being all selfishly sorry you're leaving. I really am happy for you, and I know you have way more chances to be something out there. Sometimes I think you and Willow would both be better off if you went off and had your own lives, and part of me doesn't want that. I'm going to try to be happy for you. Promise." She stopped in the middle of the street and looked up at him.

Xander caught her in a hug. "I'd rather have that than have you throwing a get-out-of-town parade."

"Definitely not feeling the parade-love right now." Buffy cleared her throat, and Xander thought he heard a little catch in her voice, but she took him by the hand and started walking towards Giles' again. "After I became the slayer, after I left LA, I felt like I wouldn't ever have anything normal or good in my life again. I just... I'm not good at saying this, but thank you. You and Willow gave me back something that I lost when I had to leave LA, something I thought I'd never have again. And a little part of me is terrified that you're moving on because for a long time, you were the ones I really counted on."

"I think you can count on Riley, and I know you can count on Giles and Willow and Oz, and even Jenny."

"Yep, I'm big with knowing that, but you and Willow were the ones I counted on in the Buffy kind of way, not the slayer kind of way. I mean, have you ever tried to talk to Giles about a shoe sale?" Her smile looked almost real.

"I can safely say no."

"But I can count on you to sigh and complain, and still let me drag you around as you sigh and complain. I'll miss that."

Xander could feel his heart twist. "I'm not moving to another planet."

"Yep, I'm knowing that."

"I will be back. I promise. It's not that I don't love you and Willow because I do, and not in the kind of love that causes me to change the sheets in the middle of the night from dream love. I save that for Seven of Nine. You and Willow only have my heart and no other parts which will remain unnamed." Xander gave her his best goofy smile. This time when she smiled back, he could see the amusement reach her eyes, making the edges of them crinkle.

"Count on you to be inappropriate."

"After living with Spike and Faith, I don't even know where the appropriate line is anymore."

"That's no joke. So, any plans for how to tell Willow?"

They turned the corner, and suddenly Xander was faced with Giles' place and potential Willow confrontage. "Um... blurt and flee?"

"Bad plan. She can run pretty fast, and she's way meaner than she looks." For a second Buffy stopped and the two of them looked at the light spilling out of the windows.

Xander sighed. "Geez, the way you're looking at me, it's like you think I'm actually afraid to tell her."

Buffy's look didn't leave any room to doubt that she thought exactly that.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't say it," Xander said as he started walking up the path.

"I'm a big old saying-nothing girl. Do you hear the silence?"

"I hear what you're not saying."

Buffy planted an elbow in his stomach, and he oophed as it drove the air out of his lungs. Of course, he'd rather get hit about a hundred times from slayer elbows than face Willow, but that wasn't an option. Running away just led to more running away, and for a half-second, Xander wondered why running away was such a bad idea. But then Buffy pushed the door to Giles' apartment open without even knocking and it was too late to wonder anything. Buffy kept her hand on Xander's back as they walked in.

"Hey, look who came to visit," Buffy said brightly as they faced the gathered group. However, when she looked at him, Xander could see the sympathy. Yep, this was going to be bad.

"Hi, guys!" Xander offered, trying his best to smother the butterflies in his stomach. Willow was sitting on the couch between Jenny and Oz, and that's who he focused on as he walked in. He could face demons, but one red-haired girl could pretty much reduce him to blind terror—terror that he was going to say exactly the wrong thing and hurt her.

"Xander!" Willow answered brightly.

Oh yeah, he was screwed.


	8. 8

Riley was the first to react to Xander's announcement. "It sounds like a good opportunity," he offered with a nod. "I was hoping to tempt you into joining the service, but construction is a great field. Not as good as the military, of course." He smiled and reached forward to slap Xander on the shoulder in a manly show of support. Then he leaned back against the wall, his shoulder touching Buffy who leaned next to him.

"The military? Me?" Xander's voice cracked, probably from the horror and disbelief. "No offense, but I would fit in like a Goth in church," Xander pointed out, the metaphor probably influenced by the fact that a Goth had started coming to the Catholic church, and there were many stares and whispers to be had.

"It might be a little awkward at first," Riley admitted. "But when the others figured out what a good fighter you are and how loyal you are, you would have gotten along fine. I would have put in a word for you to make it into Special Ops."

"Harris, Xander Harris, Double-Oh-Eight," Xander said in his best English accent. It was more cockney than proper English, but at least Riley and Jenny and Giles all rolled their eyes on cue.

"Yes, well, I can't say I'm sorry that you've chosen to avoid that future," Giles said dryly. The look he gave Riley was not all that friendly, but then Giles was dealing with his issues over losing Buffy just as much as Buffy was dealing with pseudo-father-Giles issues. Buffy stood by Riley's side and leaned into him, and it looked like she had picked her side. "The military is not the panacea for evil." Giles crossed the floor and stood behind Jenny who was still sitting on the couch. From the sympathetic look Jenny gave him, she understood. And really? Xander was shocked that he understood it, but maybe he was big with understanding because his own heart was being ripped in two by leaving. He could get just how ugly it got when the family group started drifting.

Jenny reached up and patted Giles' hand, the one he had rested on her shoulder. "Xander, I think it's a wise choice."

Willow's back stiffened at that statement, and Oz's eyes darted her way.

Jenny, however, ignored all the unhappy in the room. "It sounds like this school is a good opportunity, and let's face it--those of us who do not have to live on a Hellmouth are far better off clearing the battlefield for those who are fighting." Jenny smiled at him, but the smile felt like a punch in the gut. What the hell had he been doing for three years if he hadn't been fighting evil? Then again, Jenny and Angel had a mutual hate society going on, and she tended to be weirdly distrustful of anything related to Angel, including Xander.

"Xander has been big with the battlefield fighting," Willow blurted, her face wrinkled by a deep frown.

"Right in the middle of the fighting," Oz agreed. Even Riley was frowning.

"Yes, of course, I didn't mean that he hadn't. I just meant that he is not obligated to be part of the fight," Jenny hurried to amend herself. She blushed dark red. "Giles and I were committed to this fight by our families long before we were born, and of course Buffy...." Jenny waved a hand in her direction.

"Yes, the point is," Giles offered as he patted her on the shoulder, "that some people are obligated to remain in the fight. We will be here until the world ends, I suspect, at least those of us who have made a lifelong commitment and not just signed a contract for a four-year tour." Giles glanced at Riley. Oh yeah, Riley had won over Xander's role as most Giles-hated member of the group. But then again, Riley was doing what Xander never had--he was stealing Buffy away from Giles. Weirdly, Riley didn't even look bothered by the Giles' nasty expression.

Giles removed his glasses, a gesture that Xander half-suspected that he used when he didn't want to look at them, to see how they were taking his words. "There is a certain cadence to most fighter's lives. Their dedication to fighting demons ebbs and flows, but being on a Hellmouth, you are locked into a constant battle and never allowed time to rest or to mentally regroup. It's why I recommended that Wesley leave the Hellmouth if he was determined to become a demon hunter. I know you have proved invaluable more than once, Xander. I am grateful for that. I am equally grateful that you are moving off the Hellmouth where you might have some sort of balance in your life."

Giles finished. For long seconds, he stared down at his glasses, not even cleaning them. Silence filled the room, right beside shock and disbelief. That had almost sounded like Giles was worried about him.

"We worry about all of you," Jenny said softly.

Willow blurted out, "We still would worry if he was in Los Angeles. They have demons and vampires AND gangs and all sorts of not nice people who show up on the news all the time. Every time we turn on the news there are people in LA with guns and weirdness going on that is so weird that it has to be demonic. There's even more reason to worry about him if he's down there."

"Willow," Oz said quietly.

"No!" Willow burst up off the couch, pushing Oz's comforting arm away. "This isn't okay. The three of us stick together, even when there's really big stuff pulling us apart, like Spike killing Kendra. We stuck together after that!" Willow looked around the room, and Xander flinched--not at the reminder of Spike's demonic traits but at the way she had just neatly left Oz out of the inner sanctum. Oh yeah, as the inner sanctum reject himself, he so knew that had to hurt. But instead of showing his hurt, Oz just leaned back and watched Willow, his face concerned.

"Will, I hear you, but this is a good opportunity for Xander."

"I gave up Stanford to keep us together." Willow was going from hurt to angry at a pretty good clip. But instead of reacting, Buffy just folded in on herself, retreating to Riley's arms. Riley pulled her close and watched Willow with eyes devoid of any emotion. When Spike got that expression, things tended to get ripped apart, but Riley was just watching.

"Willow, we are all aware of the sacrifices you have made," Giles said.

"How could you?" Willow demanded, her anger collapsing under the raw pain as she faced Xander. Xander would way rather deal with angry Willow. The pain in her eyes was gutting him faster than a knife. Before Xander could answer, Willow ran for the door.

Oz immediately got up to follow, but Xander took a step toward him. "Let me?" he asked permission. Oz was her boyfriend, but Xander liked to hope he was still her friend. He'd made this mess, and he needed to clean it up.

Oz nodded and slowly sat back down. "Um, if I'm not back in an hour...." Xander gave a rough laugh, as if this were all a joke, but no one laughed with him. Buffy and Riley stood by the kitchen door, Jenny just looked uncomfortable, and Giles had his hand resting on her shoulder, and Oz watched him with a barely veiled threat in his eyes. Xander knew full well that part of Oz wanted to just beat the shit out of him. He was just lucky that Oz's zen nature overrode the werewolf. Turning away from the group, Xander followed Willow out into the night.

She hadn't gotten far. She sat on the low wall around Giles' apartment complex, the light from the street lamp leeching the red out of her hair so that it looked mousy. Silently, he sat next to her, watching a stray cat slowly pick his way down the street. He stopped to sniff every drain as he worked his way south, tail flicking. For long minutes, Xander waited for her to say something, but she was stubbornly quiet.

He sighed. "Okay, this is feeling much with the weirdness."

"Then fix it." Willow's voice was tight with emotion, but she kept her tone steady.

"If by 'fix it,' you mean stay and don't have a life, I'm voting no. If by saying 'fix it,' you mean make a really stupid joke, I have one about a priest and a rabbi. You wouldn't think a priest would be big on priest jokes, but Father Peter is oddly fond of them." Xander grinned at her. She was not grinning back.

"This is not funny."

"And I'm agreeing with you. I just wish I could make it funny."

For a second, she just stared at him. "You're leaving. You're leaving, and you want me to laugh at a stupid joke?"

"Technically, I haven't told the stupid joke yet."

"Xander." She said his name in a tone that people usually reserved for curse words and Hitler and Spam, and other things big on the grody scale of life.

Xander ducked his head, waiting for the rest of her condemnation. Once she got it out, once she told him off, they could move past it... hopefully. At this point, he was starting to worry about the lack of moving onness. Instead of speaking her mind, Willow went silent again. Silent Willow was never a good sign. Silent Willow meant that she was channeling her parents and their wacky-wacky need to have a perfect home and a perfect child and a perfect marriage and a perfect life. It led to fake smiles and a perfectly painted house and a real lack of love. They were the poster children for 'If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all,' and after seeing the poster, Xander would not be going to that movie. It was a sad way to live.

He sighed as the silence lingered. "Willow, do you remember how in third grade that new girl showed up?" he asked.

"What?" Willow looked over, the pain replaced by annoyance with a hint of confusion. Yep, her parents and even Giles may have tried to create pod-Willow, but his real Will was still in there.

"Amanda, she of the nerd in third grade," he reminded her. "You two geeked out over Einstein."

After a second, the confusion faded, replaced by a fond expression. "Jonas Salk," Willow said softly. "He's Jewish, you know."

"I stand geekily corrected."

Willow poked her finger at him. "You are changing the subject, mister. We are not talking about Salk or Amanda. We're talking about how you're running away."

"I thought I was moving away."

"Moving and running are both active verbs which suggest you're leaving." Her look dared him to contradict that logic.

"This I know." Xander cringed as she gave him a death-glare. "Okay, can you just give me a second to explain because your Willow eyes are short circuiting the brain and going straight to the guilt complex."

"They should."

Xander shook his head. He loved Willow, but there were times when he wasn't all that sure he liked her. Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't family. Angel and Spike and Willow and Buffy and Faith--they all had parts that Xander was not big with the liking, but he loved the hell out of all of them. Right now though, he focused on Willow. "When you met Amanda, that was exciting for you because Jesse and I were in our mud pies stage, and you were never a fan of mud pies."

"Not when you two threw them at me." For a second, either annoyance or amusement made her mouth twitch--maybe both.

"Okay, that might have been a little rude, although to be fair, we just liked seeing you run and scream. We didn't actually try to hit you with the mud."

Willow glared.

"Usually," Xander added. "But I have a point going here, a really pointy point. You were friends with Amanda because you needed someone to geek with. And then, when Buffy came to town, Jesse was off on his girl-chasing stage, and I was starting with the girl chasing, although at the time I was more in the holding a book in front of me when I walked stage. They're closely related stages. But that is one stage you will not be going through, so Buffy was way more stagelike for you."

"You're jealous of Buffy?"

"No!" Xander paused. "Not usually. Okay, so when she first showed up, I might have been a little jealous besides being intermittently horny. I'd lost Jesse. I watched you turn to Buffy, and I was just so damn angry. And honestly? Angel got most of the fuzzy end of that lollipop because I regularly made myself feel better by verbally torturing him."

"Then let him leave town. You can say here with us. Buffy and I were talking, and there's this architectural program that you would love." Willow sounded just so damn hopeful that Xander wanted to just give her what she wanted and make her light up with that joy that seemed to bubble out of her sometimes. He just couldn't this time.

"No, no, actually I wouldn't. I don't like designing buildings. I like taking an old building and scraping down the paint and finding the original carvings that some workman made. I like screwing in drywall and watching a pile of materials turn into a room that someone is going to live in. I like tracking down a short in a wiring system and ripping the old wires out. I don't want to be an architect."

"But--"

"Don't go there," Xander warned.

"What is wrong with you? Don't you want a good future? I swear, I don't know you any more Xander. College would be a chance for you to make something of your future." Instead of bubbly happiness, Willow oozed out a righteous indignation and fury that made Xander want to cringe.

"No, college would be a chance for me to make my future look like yours, which is where the whole staging stuff comes in. I don't want to be college-boy. I wouldn't ever get through the math."

She leaned in, her hand resting on his leg as she got her earnest-face on. "I can help you. You know I will always be there for you, and we can set a date on Tuesday nights, and we can just work through it together."

"And when I get a job as an architect?"

She smiled brightly. "You'll be really grateful that went to college."

"Actually, I'm thinking I'm going to be worried about the bosses figuring out a big old fraud who can't do his own math. Or maybe you think you'll follow me to work and do my math for me there, too."

"Xander! You don't need to be mean." Willow pulled her hand back.

"No, I really don't. However, right now being mean is feeling slightly good." Xander struggled to shove down his own frustration that she was just so willing to tell him how to live and just expect him to go along. "Willow," he said, his voice artificially calm, "I don't want to go to college."

"Then don't go. I didn't say you had to go. Did I say you had to go?"

"You implied."

"I'm not implying, I'm just saying there are choices out there that you're not considering because you see yourself as someone who isn't as good, and that is so not fair, and sometimes I really hate Jesse, and that makes me feel like a horrible person because he's dead and I'm hating him, but he said all these things to you. He used to make fun of you and beat you in all the races and call you stupid, and you just let him be mean. And now it's like you're being the Xander that Jesse and your father used to tell you that you were. And I was there too. I was always telling you that you were good enough and strong enough and smart enough, but I wasn't ever enough. You had to believe them." She stopped as though out of air, and her eyes glistened, even in the low light of the streetlamp.

Xander blinked, more than a little blindsided by that admission. "Okay, maybe I got confused mid-babble, but do you think that I think that I'm not any good at shit?"

"Language," Willow said softly, but Xander was guessing it was habit or maybe a need to change the subject, because Graham had said way worse and she never commented on his language.

"Willow," Xander sighed her name, but then he stopped, not sure what to say. Yeah, he and Jesse had been engaged in a war of insults most of their life, but so were Angel and Spike and Spike and Riley and Giles and him and Riley and Graham. Actually, mutual insulting seemed fairly guylike, right up there with spitting and farting and belching.

"I love you, and yeah, I know I really messed things up there for a while because my hormones confused love and love." She got a sour look on her face. "I know that, but I still love you, and I want to cry when you sell yourself short, and now you're leaving?"

"You didn't mess things up."

She looked at him incredulously

"Okay, so you made things a little weird there for a while because you're the closest thing I have to a sister, and sisters and..." Xander let his words trail off, not even wanting to go there in his mind.

"Sisters and smoochies are unmixy," Willow finished for him.

"Very. Unmixy like lead-based paint and toddlers unmixy. But I do love you too, and I am not running away because of a lack of self-esteem. If I were having self-esteem issues, Angel would so drag me back to therapy. But the fact is that you're off in the college stage of life with Buffy and Oz and Riley. And that's cool. That's a good stage."

"It could be your stage," Willow offered, her voice whisper soft and trembling, as if she were reining in her emotions and starting to fail.

"It could be," Xander agreed. "But I don't want it to be. I don't like the idea of college. I like the idea of a vocational school and fixing things and building things. And you watch... you're going to think this is not a good idea until Buffy tries to flush some demon goo that totally backs up all your toilets, and then you will be calling me and my mighty snake."

Willow giggled. "Your mighty snake?" Her laugh turned into a snort and then something that might have been a sob before she finally got her breathing back under control.

Xander gave her a crooked smile. "And by snake I mean the thing you use to unclog drains, although I have it on good authority that I'm mighty in more ways than one."

"Xander!" Willow punched his arm, her fist little more than a tickle against his bicep.

Xander nodded wisely. "I'm mighty with the drywall and the wiring, and I've started doing some carving, and I'm showing some mightiness in that way too."

She looked at him out of the side of her eyes, her mouth still a tight line. "You've been around Spike too much," she finally announced. Then again, if he was making mighty snake jokes around Willow, he probably had been.

He shrugged.

"You could be mighty around here," she offered softly.

Xander looked up and down the quiet street. "Not much building going on around here, Will. And face it, most of the buildings get blown up way before they need renovating. LA has a great school for construction, and Angel bought this really cool old hotel that needs about a million hours of renovation."

"He bought it for you?"

"Well, that and it's big enough that we won't have to know what Faith and Spike are doing." Xander frowned as he thought about that one. If Spike was dating Cordelia, he had no idea how any of that was going to turn out, other than he seriously intended to avoid any and all nuclear fallout caused if those two ladies started fighting. And with Spike and Angel definitely still doing the nasty, he figured he would have craploads of damage to fix once all the shit started hitting the fan. Willow had wrinkled her nose at the thought.

"Besides," Xander said as he threw an arm around her shoulders, "I still have to find someone to have happily ever after with or the vengeance demon is going to turn me into Catwoman's love slave." Xander schooled his expression into a lustful leer. "Explain again why I'm trying to avoid that fate."

Xander genuinely smiled when she backhanded him in the stomach. Slowly she let her head sink down until it rested against his shoulder. "I love you, Xander."

"I love you too, Will. I always will."

"Always?" Her voice sounded so small that Xander wanted to promise her that he'd stay, that he'd make her pain go away. If Angel hadn't already spent an ungodly amount of money on the hotel, he might have even done it. Instead he just tightened his arm around her.

"Always. You just let the world try and end, and you'll see how fast I come running," he promised.

When the sniffles and the ragged breathing started, Xander didn't say anything. He just sat on the low wall and watched the moon slowly track across the sky and held on as Willow cried in his arms. It might be time to move on, but she would always be family.


	9. 9

"Now he's a cutie," Lorne suggested, raising his pink drink toward the current singer. The comment was wrong on so many levels that Xander wasn't sure where to even start.

"He's a he!" Xander finally settled on. Lorne looked at Spike and the two of them sadly shook their heads like Xander was a child who had said something particularly amusing and equally stupid. Xander considered putting an elbow in Spike's stomach since he was sitting so close, but he really didn't want to get dragged over Spike's lap and given a wedgie right in the middle of Caritas. "Just because some people like to drink pink drinks does not mean the rest of us are into pink. I am so not into pink. I am a brown man... or a blue man sometimes, but I am never pink." Xander crossed his arms and glared at Lorne for even suggesting the current singer. They never should have told The Host about Xander's little trouble with Anyanka and their search for a perfect partner.

"Now sweetcheeks, no need for ruffled feathers. I am simply looking at the auras."

"Well, his aura is evil. That's the guy that Spike ate," Xander pointed out. The singer was half-sitting on a stool and strumming his guitar as he sang "I Can't Stop Loving You."

"Oh, Spike. You didn't tell me that you've been eating Lindsey," Lorne said with an eyebrow wiggle.

"Okay, ew," Xander interrupted them. "I meant eat as in nearly killed, so please stop corrupting my brain with thoughts it is not prepared to handle. That guy's evil, and you're trying to set me up on a date with him. When Angel gets here, I'm guessing he's going to veto that plan."

Spike snorted. "Face it, pet. The big lug is going to veto anyone takin' you out on a date."

"Isn't that true? He's going to implode from the force of all that repression," Lorne answered. Xander was going to ask what he meant by that, but Lorne kept right on going, his red eyes focusing on Lindsey. "Besides, that sweetie is not evil."

Xander looked at Lorne like he had lost his mind. "Evil lawyer at evil law firm doing evil things to Cordelia... and many other girls. That's a lot of 'evil' for one sentence."

"Oh, his bosses are evil, that's true enough." Lorne took a drink and studied Lindsey, who actually had a pretty good singing voice for someone who was so evil. Maybe that's what was making Lorne's aura-reading skills do the wonky, because even Xander knew this guy was headed for the villain's hall of fame. Or maybe just the lobby rather than the hall, but he was definitely villain-bound.

"As long as those wankers stay clear of me and mine, they can be as evil as they want," Spike announced, and he had a bit of yellow in his eyes when he said it.

"Hey, evil bad, Spike. Remember?"

Spike rolled his eyes, reached over to drape an arm over Xander's shoulders, and then pulled Xander close enough to give him a noogie.

"Hey! Uncle! Enough!" Xander flailed and tried to defend himself, but Spike kept it up for a second before finally letting go. By then, Xander could feel his face turning bright red. Everyone was looking at him--even the guy up on stage. And from the expression on his face, he remembered them--or he remembered Spike anyway. Lindsey turned a sickly shade of white and nearly fell off the stage as he did a full speed retreat. When Xander glanced over, Spike had his game face on and he was showing Lindsey more than a little fang.

"Not nice," Xander chastised him, but he focused on just drinking his root beer and trying to get the blush to vanish. If Angel was here, he would have made sure to sit between Xander and Spike in order to save Xander from Spike's more embarrassing forms of affection. And next time, Xander was so going to evening mass with Angel.

"Never claimed to be nice, pet. I'm evil, remember?" Spike flashed him a little fang.

"You're evil like a saber tooth tiger, which is to say, not much," Xander argued. Spike narrowed his eyes and reached for Xander again, and Xander just knew he was getting the wedgie this time. Unfortunately, Lorne was blocking his retreat on one side, and Spike was too close for any fancy moves because the booth definitely wasn't built for fighting... or even rough housing.

"So, Tiger," Lorne interrupted, "how serious is Angel-cakes about letting our sweet little thing find himself another sweet little thing?"

That distracted Spike from the Xander-torture, and Xander breathed a sigh of relief as the yellow eyes and ridges vanished under Spike's human mask. "Don't know. He likes to think he's serious enough, but the boy hasn't brought home anyone for him to hate good and proper." Leaning back in the bench, Spike sprawled his arms out full length and looked around the room. "And if the boy runs true to form, he won't be looking for a sweet, young thing. Bloody hell, Lindsey comes closer to his type, evil and all."

"Not gay!" Xander objected. "And Lindsey is so not my type."

Spike tilted a head and considered him for a second. "Pet, your fantasies include a villain who dresses like a cat and a woman who is half machine and could break you in half before turning you into a mindless slave. And then there are your crushes. At least half have been on demons--most of them evil--and the only woman you've ever bedded is a slayer. Seems like Lindsey fits in there pretty well."

"Not gay!" Xander repeated. "And I was only accidentally attracted to evil women when I didn't know they were evil."

Spike didn't answer, he just cocked his eyebrow in that way that made it pretty clear that he believed Xander so little that he wasn't even going to bother arguing that lame point. And Xander had to admit that his point was limping a little because he really did seem to be attracted to dangerous and sometimes borderline evil people. Amy had been his first man-sized crush, and she had turned into a big-almost-bad before she got whisked off to England. And from there he'd gone to Cordelia, and even he had to admit that she was freaky scary with a small side-order of evil.

"Lindsey isn't evil, you big bundle of repressed cuteness." Lorne reached over to pat Xander's arm. "He's a little lost and following all the wrong people, but he's not the sort to end the world or torture virgins."

"Then he definitely works at the wrong place, because he's looking evil from where I sit," Xander mulishly insisted. He'd grown up on the Hellmouth, and working for people-eating vampires who kidnapped Cordelia was evil with a capital E.

"That he does, Sweetie," Lorne said sadly. He twirled his straw and stared down at his drink.

Spike grabbed his whiskey and threw it back in one showy gulp that would have left Xander choking and gasping. "Bloody hell, I've got things to do and people to eat. I could be working on trying to finally shag Cordelia, so Peaches had better show up soon. "

Xander cringed. "Okay, that would be over-sharing."

"Over-sharing would be telling you how it felt havin' her thighs clamped around me, but I don't bloody know that yet. Four soddin' months and I'm still buyin' gifts. With Dru, one twelve thousand dollar prom dress would've been good enough. But no, I have to bloody impress her. Well, being late is pretty fucking unimpressive, innit? Where is this git who wanted to meet Angel?"

"He's around," Lorne said vaguely.

"If he's so bloody keen on seein' Angel, he could just come to the soddin' hotel," Spike growled, and he was definitely running out of patience. An out of patience Spike was a dangerous thing, and maybe others realized that because the yellowish-demony couple at the next table decided to cut their night short. They left in a flurry of tentacles and coats. He thought people in Sunnydale were blind, but people in L.A. were blind, deaf and dumb to not notice all the weirdness.

"Ah, the prodigal sire returns," Lorne said with a happy smile. Xander looked over and Angel was standing at the door with a familiar man standing just behind him.

"Father Peter!" Xander called, waving.

"Bloody hell. He brought the soddin' priest. My unlife just gets better all the fucking time," Spike sighed. This time Xander braved the wedgie danger and planted an elbow in Spike's side. Unsurprisingly, Spike captured his arm rather easily, and then held it captive as Angel and Father Peter came over to the table.

"Xander! It's so nice to see you; I missed you at mass."

"I'm technically not Catholic, so I thought the mass thing was optional." Xander gave Father Peter his best 'forgive me' look and really cursed himself for picking video games with Faith over church with Angel. He didn't mind disappointing God, but Father Peter had a way of really making you regret disappointing him. After all, the guy had shown up with a cross and a bunch of bandages to help out at graduation, and when a guy had put his life on the line for you, it felt kinda creepy to not even bother to show up for church.

"You're welcome whether you're Catholic or not."

"Yep, I'm big with knowing that. So, are you visiting the big city for the day?" Xander asked with a wide smile, praying that the topic would change before anyone mentioned what Xander had been doing instead. But honestly, the video game carnage had been the first time since Faith moved back that things felt totally normal instead of the varnish of normal over whole heaping loads of guilt and weird politeness. Then again, maybe Xander was just feeling like there were heaps of weird laying around because a Faith who didn't try to have sex with everyone she met was feeling vaguely unFaithlike. Nice--but unFaithlike.

Father Peter smiled at him, and Xander hoped that meant he was forgiven. "Actually, the Archdiocese transferred me down here. The local priest is..." he stopped, frowned, and then shrugged. "He's a little concerned about the fact that his parish suddenly includes a vampire who is trying to rediscover God. He put in a panicked call to the Archbishop and the issue ended up going all the way to the Pope. I'm not sure whether to be complimented or terrified that the Pope knows my name." Father Peter's mouth twisted into a wry smile.

"I'm sure he thinks well of you," Angel offered with an awkward pat on Father Peter's shoulder. Father Peter's smile turned into something more amused and less with the being freaked out. Then again, watching Angel attempt the interpersonal supportive shtick was pretty amusing.

"Thank you. Considering that he's counting on me to keep a demon on the path to righteousness, I have to assume he thinks I've done something well so far."

Spike interrupted the mutual admiration society Angel and Father Peter had going by snorting loudly. "Bloody unnatural, you two being bosom buddies or some such rot as that. It's like a wolf makin' nice with a soddin cow."

"Ah, but you make nice with Xander," Father Peter disagreed. However, he also pulled a chair over and perched on the edge rather than sit on the booth's bench next to Lorne or Spike. Xander figured that Father Peter's tolerance for demons had limits, and sitting too close to one would probably give him the wiggins. Personally, Xander had sat next to, fought next to, and woke up next to demons. His wiggins button had broken long, long ago.

"Not the same, mate. Xander's more like a wolf cub--a little clumsy and cute, but he'll grow into his fangs." Spike ruffled Xander's hair, and Xander glared at him.

"Spike," Angel warned darkly.

"Wot?"

"He's been in this mood all day," Xander immediately tattled on Spike.

"Oi, I'm not getting enough sex. I'm bloody randy, and you aren't offering to fix that for me," Spike shot back with a healthy glare for Xander.

Xander opened his mouth, but he couldn't get his tongue to work before Angel settled the fight by hitting Spike on the back of the head. Lorne didn't even bother watching--he was fascinated by a small woman who stood nervously on the stage. Father Peter only looked a little freaked. Then Angel shoved Spike over and sat on the end of the booth. Xander smiled as Spike, who had been the master of the sprawl just a minute earlier, was now crowded into the center of the booth with him and getting sprawled on as Angel spread his arms in an almost perfect imitation of Spike's body language.

"Lorne, where is this man who asked to meet me?" Angel asked, but his hand landed conspicuously on Spike's neck. Xander smirked. Yep, he might be the bottom of this totem pole, but Spike wasn't at the top either.

"Fucking mick," Spike whispered under his breath, but he also didn't even try to move away. Xander suspected that Spike was totally okay being pushed around, which probably explained why he was dating Cordelia, even without getting any sex.

"Such impatience. Now Angel, have you considered changing the look? I have to say, the black with black ensemble does not match the good church-going boy image. I can see you looking very good in chartreuse. It's a lovely color if I do say so myself." Lorne preened a little, but when everyone at the table looked at him blankly, he deflated like a flat tire. "No appreciation for the finer things in life." He shook his head sadly at them all. "Here's Doyle now."

Xander looked over and there was a thin man walking towards them. He had dark hair and a sharp gaze that put Xander on edge immediately. "Evening, folks," he offered in a soft lilting accent as he stood near Father Peter's chair. "Padre." He tilted his head in that direction.

"Another fucking mick." Spike snorted and shoved at Xander to make him scoot over.

"He's not human," Angel said in his quiet, dangerous voice.

"Now that’s a bit rude. So happens that I am very much human." Doyle frowned at them for a second, and Xander looked from Angel to Doyle and back. Doyle's face split into a grin. "On my mother's side, anyway. My other half is Brachen, which is not exactly the world-ending sort if you know what I mean. Normally Brachen keep clear of vampires and other assorted nasties. We're a quiet lot."

"I'm Xander," Xander offered after a brief and awkward silence. Spike and Angel both glared at him.

"Nice ta meet you, Xander. And I assume this is Spike?" Doyle had balls, that's for sure. He didn't even flinch at the growl he got as an answer.

"I'm Father Peter." The priest stood and offered Doyle his hand.

"Ah, bringing your own spiritual guidance. I didn't think The Host was going to tell you my business before I got here." Doyle looked at Lorne unhappily.

"Oh, I didn't, sweetie. The priest was a surprise to me too, but since you've already gone and put your foot in your very lovely mouth, I'm going to leave you to your chatting. You people be nice, now," Lorne said as he stood up. "And if you're not going to be nice, do remember that the spell will keep you from being violent."

"I can be as violent as I want," Xander pointed out. Since the non-violence spell was keyed for demons, it wouldn't work on him.

Lorne looked at him for a long moment. "I need to get that little oversight fixed. Note to self, have the transuding furies include humans in the next round of spell casting. I should charge you for that little add-on, Darling." With one last look at Xander, Lorne got up and headed over to the bar. Spreading his arms, he loudly and enthusiastically greeted a scaled demon with a head like an anvil.

Father Peter moved and sat down next to Xander, leaving his chair empty. "Please," he said with a gesture toward the chair.

"Thanks," Doyle answered. He sat and fidgeted awkwardly.

"What do you want?" Angel asked, and that was his 'don't screw with me' voice, the one he got after discovering that Xander had replaced all his shampoo with dishwasher soap.

"The Powers That Be sent me." Doyle said the name in a way that made it really clear that he was capitalizing those words. Obviously, Xander was supposed to know who these powers were, but he was pulling a big old blank. He looked at Angel for some sort of explanation, but Angel had his poker face on--the one where even Xander couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling.

"The Powers That Be feeling like leaving us alone because we're not big with getting messed with by people with powers much less powers with no people attached?" Xander asked hopefully.

Doyle looked over at him and smiled. The expression transformed him from sharp-faced and sly looking into someone friendly looking and almost sweet. "They're not big on leaving people alone. Let me tell you a little story. See, once upon a time, there was a vampire, got himself cursed with a soul. Then all of a sudden he's mad with guilt. 'Oh woe is me, what have I done?'" Doyle looked over towards Angel, but he had on his stone-faced expression, and his fist was curled around Spike's forearm. And that was probably of the good because Spike was looking extra-special cranky.

Doyle cleared his throat and looked away. "Skipping ahead... Maybe I should get a drink." Doyle looked around for a bartender.

"Whatever you have to say, say it," Angel said, and that was still not a nice tone of voice.

"Well, it seems that this vampire is looking to make amends, to fix what he's done wrong in his life, only he doesn't know how. He's playing the numbers, figuring out how many he's killed and how many he's let die, both pre and post soul, and he can't figure out where he starts tipping the balance over to the side of the angels. That's where I come in."

"You're on the side of the angels?" Father Peter asked, his voice oddly unemotional.

Doyle, however, smiled at him. "That I am, Father. The Powers That Be don’t speak to me direct. I get... visions--which is to say great splitting migraines that come with pictures." Doyle's face twisted at the memory of the pain, but then his voice took on a sing-song quality like when the priest read prayers at mass. " A name – a face. I don’t know who sends them. I just know whoever sends them is more powerful than me or you, and they're just trying to make things right." Doyle blinked, and it was like the spell was over. "I've got amends of my own to make, and the visions they send me--they're my way of making things rights. Since the cosmic balance sheet isn't exactly in your favor, either, they sent me to you."

"To do what exactly?" Angel asked in that same calm voice.

"To work together. With my visions and your brawn, we could make a difference."

Angel frowned, and Xander knew he was feeling tempted. Give Angel a chance to play caped crusader, and he was going to go for it every single time... like a dog sniffing after crotch. Not that Xander had a problem with fighting the good fight, but sometimes, just sometimes, Angel took the fighting the good fight part a little too far, like sniffing after a fifteen year old slayer. Ick.

Father Peter leaned forward. "So, the Powers That Be sent you visions, painful visions, and told you that you have to make up for the wrong you've done in your life?"

"That's about it in a nutshell. Considering how the visions make my head feel like it's going to fall off, I figure I'm doing my penance at a pretty good clip."

"Bloody hell. Do not tell me you're even considering this rot. We moved up here to make our own territory, not to get involved with some soddin' powers and their bloody war." Spike shook Angel's hand off and leaned forward, but at least now he looked aggravated instead of homicidal.

"I...." Angel stopped. He looked over at Xander, and Xander gave Angel his best 'Don't look at me' expression. "Maybe we--" This time Angel got cut off by Father Peter.

"Angel, you don't have anything to atone for."

"All those years--" Angel immediately objected, but Father Peter kept right on going, totally ignoring Angel's guilt trip.

"Grace does not require servitude. The Lord forgives because he knows that we all sin, and the Sacrament of Penance offers us forgiveness."

"That's what I'm doing, Father, offering penance," Doyle said seriously.

"No, no you are not. Penance is offered by a priest, and it does not include physical pain. If you have sins to atone for, you should come to confession, not put your trust in mysterious shadows that you can't see. Trusting shadows is a sure path to deception and corruption."

Doyle was already shaking his head, frowning at Father Peter's words. "They want to make things better. They send me visions of horrible things that are going to happen and give me a chance to fix them. They're fighting on the side of the angels, Father." Father Peter did not look convinced at all.

"Wait, are you saying that he might only think he's working for the good guys?" Xander asked. This whole conversation was getting a little confusing for him, and sometimes just admitting that he was totally and completely lost was the best approach.

"That's not possible," Doyle immediately insisted, but Xander knew that look. He'd seen that look on his own face in the mirror plenty of times. That was the look of someone who'd just realized that he might possibly have just done something stupid. And as the doer of many stupid things, Xander was starting to feel a little sympathy for the guy. "They send visions." Doyle was definitely trying to bolster his own confidence with that.

"Of what?" Father Peter asked. Angel actually looked more relaxed now as he watched Father Peter and Doyle talk, but Spike rolled his eyes. Yep, in about two minutes, Spike was going to get bored and do something so very, very bad. Maybe Angel recognized the same signs because he reached over and squeezed Spike's shoulder hard enough to force Spike to hunch up and hiss in pain.

"Images, like a slide show going by so fast that you can only see bits and pieces, and what with the blinding and debilitating pain, it's a little hard to concentrate even on the images I do see."

For some reason, that made Father Peter frown even more.

"Father, the Powers That Be aren't called that because they're wimps. These are powerful beings, but they want our help to make the world a better place." Doyle really wasn't sounding sure now.

"I don't doubt that they have power," Father Peter quickly agreed. "Many creatures have power, but a true vision given by god, a supernatural, imaginative vision given by our Lord is full of grace and light and a sense of wonder at his power. To have pain and confusion... that is not a mark of God. That is a mark of some other supernatural agent."

Doyle was shaking his head.

"St. Paul said that Satan often appears in his angelic form to tempt souls, and St. Martin was confronted by a demon who appeared to him in the form of Jesus Christ in a purple robe, crowned with a diadem. Visions do not mean that these 'powers' are agents of God. If the visions cause pain, I am very likely to believe the opposite. And since we are all born into sin and we are incapable of living without sinning, no matter how well intentioned we are, anyone who suggests that we have to balance some scale is wrong. Now whether they're misguided or just lying is another issue, but I'm sure they're wrong."

"Father, I have done more wrong in my life than most," Angel said quietly, his guilt rising like a dark tide that Xander could see in his expression. Xander frowned and wished he had a nice way to tell Spike to move so that he could be next to Angel. Spike was great when Angel needed someone to fight or do other things that Xander wasn't thinking about, but Spike and comforting where not big with the mixy. In fact, from Spike's expression, he didn't even know he should be offering comfort.

"Yes, you have," Father Peter agreed. Xander glared at the man and might have kicked him under the table, only... hello... priest. Kicking a priest was not really of the good, and he didn't feel like getting hit by any godly lightning. "Yet Christ chose to allow a sinner to wash his feet, a task he had denied others the right to do. God knows you've sinned." Father Peter got an embarrassed look on his face. "I'm hardly free of sin myself. Pride and recklessness have caused me to make more than one poor choice, but I can't fix those past mistakes. I can only repent and have faith that God forgives me."

"How can he?" Angel asked, and now even Spike looked over at him with concern. Yep, that was Angel's 'flailing in guilt' face.

"Because he knows we're all weak. You don't have to earn his forgiveness. He's already given it." Father Peter sounded so sure, and right now Xander hoped he was because this wave of guilt was rising higher. It was quickly looking like a full-on guilt tsunami, and Xander glared at Doyle, the earthquake that had brought it.

Spike looked from Angel to Xander and back, a worried frown on his face, and that was not a normal expression for Spike. "Bloody hell, I have better things to do than talk all this rot. As the only person here guaranteed a trip to hell at the end of this ride, I don't really feel a need to discuss it. As far as I'm concerned if ya just have the sense to not get killed, you don't have to sodding worry about it." With that, Spike twisted around and got a knee into the seat of the bench before vaulting over the back and striding away with long steps that made his coat billow. Yep, Spike did know how to stage an exit. And with Spike out of the way, Xander scooted closer to Angel--close enough to rest his hand on Angel's arm.

"Sure you were big with the bad, but now you're big with the good, and sometimes big with the clueless, but overall, that's sounding weirdly normal. I mean, I tried to rape Buffy, and while I normally do my best to either repress that memory or blame it on a temporary case of demonism, the fact is that it was me that was doing the lusting and the demon just sort of put the lust into motion. So if you're going to go thinking that every bad thing requires some sort of payment or," Xander looked over at Doyle, "pain...." Xander shivered at the thought of having some mysterious power reach into his head and hurt him. Yeah, he would not be signing up for that dumb-ass plan. "How much pain do I deserve for trying to hurt Buffy?" Xander asked.

Angel stared at him with wide eyes. "You dunna deserve any pain," Angel said firmly and slowly and in a thick enough accent to tell Xander that he had hit a nerve. "You've done more good in your life than any ten men."

"I got Harmony killed, and other people whose names I'm not even a good enough person to remember. I mean, if I led the graduation attack, and then I can't remember the names of the people who died, that's not saying good things about me. And then there's the attempted rape and the way I didn't save Kendra and the staking of my best friend and then there's the suckhouse... the one on Christmas Eve." Xander stopped. If he was truthful with himself, that was the one that still filled his mouth with the bitter taste of guilt. He'd talked Angelus into going to that suckhouse. Considering that Angelus hadn't tasted human blood in a century or two, Xander really should have figured out that he wasn't going to be able to control the bloodlust.

Before Xander could say anything else, Angel had reached over and grabbed him, pulling him close with one arm and cupping Xander's face with his palm in order to make Xander look him in the eye. "Ye didna do anything wrong. Remember that couple standing in the moonlight? I would've tortured them. They both would've died that night and they both owe their life to you. As I remember it, you were willing to lay down your life in order to warn them. You stopped Angelus from going on a rampage, and you did that alone. Alone and afraid you still didna back down from doing what was right." Angel looked at Xander with brown eyes flecked with gold, and Xander bit his lip as his eyes grew hot. He wasn't even sure whether the guilt or Angel's uncompromising belief in him was inspiring tears, but if Angel didn't let go soon, Xander was going to cry in front of way more people than he wanted to cry in front of. Of course, he didn't want to cry in front of one person, and the whole demonic clientele of Caritas was way more than one.

"Xander, God forgives even when we don't forgive ourselves," Father Peter offered softly. Xander swallowed and blinked to try and clear the blurriness in his vision and twisted his head away from Angel. However, he remained leaning into his friend. Funny, this was supposed to be about reassuring Angel, so Xander wasn't quite sure how it had twisted around to him.

Angel still had his arm around Xander's shoulders as he turned to face Doyle. "You're right that the balance sheet isn't even, and it never will be. That doesn't mean that I have to make up for what I've done or even that I can."

Father Peter smiled.

"They're trying to improve the world. It's about helping people," Doyle insisted, but Xander had the feeling that Doyle was going to start reconsidering his own allegiances soon enough.

"I'd like to see you at church some time." Father Peter held out a white card with an embossed gold cross. Doyle looked at it like it was a snake.

"No offense, Padre, but I'm not the church-going type."

"Then make a choice to be a different type, but don't think you can cure yourself of sin through your own actions or that God wants your pain." Father Peter took the card and put it on the edge of the table closest to Doyle.

"Father Peter's right," Angel said, his voice suddenly louder than the general din in the club or even the singer who was whispering the words to 'You are the Wind Beneath My Wings.' "You should come to church. If these Powers of yours are actually godly, they won't mind. You know, I knew Drusilla when she was human, and her visions never harmed her. She was accused of witchcraft and her da told her she was going to hell for lying about being able to see the future, but that was more about the ignorance of people than anything else. The pain only came after I turned her."

"Heavenly visions aren't painful," Father Peter agreed. "You know, I think the Vatican assigned me to the Hellmouth because even as a young seminary student, I was more than a little obsessed with the supernatural elements of the church. I once drove ten hours straight for the privilege of seeing an exorcism."

"Hang out with us long enough, and you'll be conducting them," Xander pointed out. "I seriously wouldn't have minded you kicking my demonic spirit out before the attempted rape or the eating of the school mascot."

Father Peter frowned. "Your school mascot wasn't a...." He winced and let his words trail off.

"A pig. Of course, several of the other infected guys were off eating the principal while I was trying to rape Buffy, so there was still the eating of people going on, just not by me."

"Oh dear. I'm surprised the church didn't assign you your own priest given the number of spiritual crises you seem to have." The words might have sounded harsh coming from someone else, but from Father Peter who had seen them through some tough times, they were just the simple truth. Xander had to admit that the number of spiritual crises sort of snowballed some days. And other than Spike--and maybe Cordelia--they all definitely had the habit of falling off the guilt wagon.

"Actually, I think they have," Angel said.

Father Peter nodded. "Perhaps. Certainly I'm interested in helping anyone who is trying to find their way through a world more complex than the one most people live in." Father Peter might have been talking to Angel, but he kept his gaze focused on Doyle.

Lorne appeared out of nowhere, clapping his hands together with delight. "Ah, so I see some auras that are definitely more in tune now. Would anyone like anything to drink? We have a lovely little demoness from the Oden Tal, and I'm thinking she's right up Xander's alley. You watch, Sweetie, we'll find you the perfect mate in no time at all." Lorne winked at Xander, and then Xander flinched because Angel's arm had tightened painfully.

"Ow. Human here, soft human flesh."

"Sorry," Angel offered, but he sure didn't loosen his grip much as a stunning woman in a tight outfit stepped up on stage, her violet eyes searching the crowd before she started singing an alien song in a deep voice. Oh yeah, time for Lorne to try and hook him up with totally inappropriate people again because tattooed demons were not on his approved dating list. Xander looked at the woman again. But she was hot. Seriously hot. Xander could feel his body warm and tighten and he leaned farther into Angel's personal space to get a better look. Angel's hand landed on Xander's knee. Oh yeah, this was way more interesting than talking souls and powers and things that went bump in the night.


	10. 10

"You could have bought that plastic stuff that came in big rolls," Angel complained as he carefully piled the tiles on the heavy cart.

"Linoleum," Xander said. "And the reason we need to redo the bathroom is because linoleum and T'hoc slime are unmixy." Xander straightened up and thought about that for a second. "Actually, they're way too mixy--mixy in a making a big pile of sticky goo kind of mixy. Lorne has some odd friends." And Lorne really did have odd friends. Since Angel had lots and lots of left over space, Lorne had designated him the demonic innkeeper of choice, and some of the guests were a little hard on the flooring. Angel insisted that most demon goo didn't react with porcelain, so the very expensive porcelain tiles should be way more demon friendly. Xander actually felt a little bad for Matack who ended up picking melted linoleum bits out of some toelike things that definitely weren't toes.

"Can't bloody believe you're going to let that green git invite anythin' with slime into our territory. I get one drop of slime on my coat and someone's bloody losing a tentacle." Spike was laying on the floor, his boots propped up on the wall and his MP3 player jacked up so loud that Xander could hear it on the other side of the lobby.

"Hey, he paid well," Xander pointed out. He figured out that was a stupid thing to say about a second after Faith laughed.

"I'm not a hireling." Angel just about growled the words and that was definitely a glare he was giving Xander.

"Chill, big guy. Xander's just pointing out that Matack offered a pretty nice tribute." Faith looked up from her spot on the floor. She was surrounded by weapons that she was currently polishing, sharpening, and tightening the handles on. "Actually, considering that Xander hasn't had time to remodel any of the guest rooms, he offered way more of a tribute than I expected for this shithole."

"Hey, this shithole has class," Xander objected, but he was pretty much drowned out by Spike indignant yell.

"Oi! It's a bloody honor to be allowed into an Aurelian court." Spike's boot was hitting the wall in time with the ear-splitting music spilling out from his headphones. Yep, Spike the hater of all things traditional was very happy to pretend to be traditional if it got them paid... or if it got them respect, Xander wasn't quite sure which Spike appreciated more. Then again, if Spike kept spending money on Cordelia, he was going to need a steady source of income. Cordelia might play selfish and vapid... a word he had learned from listening to Willow describe Cordelia for over a decade... but she really wasn't. Which all led Xander to wonder what game she was playing with Spike. Whatever the game, she was obviously winning because Faith and Spike hadn't been doing the dirty since Faith had moved back in. In fact, Faith seemed oddly dirtyless.

"I just don't see why I have to carry the tiles," Angel complained again as he loaded another box.

"Vamp strength," Xander said without any sympathy. "And Spike plus $30,000 worth of porcelain is..." Xander let that trail off.

"Oi! I could not break it if I felt like it."

"Then get over here and prove it." Angel straightened up and glared at Spike.

Spike just gave him a wicked grin. "Don't feel like, mate."

For half a second, Xander was sure the two vampires were going to break into fist fighting which would lead to clothes ripping which would lead to things that would make him flee and Faith smirk. Dating Cordelia might have cut Spike off from Faith-sex, but it obviously didn't slow down the Angel-sex. The tension broke when the front door opened. A short arc of light came in the open door, and a figure stood backlit in the opening.

Stepping forward, Angel put on his 'don't screw with me' expression. "Can I help you?"

"Seems like you can." The figure stepped in and Xander recognized Doyle, the guy who'd tried to talk Angel into working for the Powers.

"I'm not interested." Angel sidestepped so that he was between Doyle and Xander, blocking the view. Wiping his hands on his jeans, Xander stood up and rolled his eyes at the idiot's overprotectiveness. Sure, there was probably a good reason to stand between him and vampires because Xander wasn't as good with a stake as the rest of the family. But Xander was at least ninety percent sure that Doyle wasn't a bad guy, and he was eighty percent sure he could take Doyle even if he did turn out to be some big bad. Or not-so-big bad.

"So, you'll let a woman die?"

Okay, that was so not what Xander was expecting. He stepped around the pallet of tile and then had to poke Angel in the back to make the stupid, paranoid vampire move to the side enough to let Xander look over his shoulder.

"If you hurt someone," Angel growled. Spike was up on his feet, and Faith had stood, a wicked ax in her hand.

"Not me!" Doyle immediately yelped, his hands held up in surrender. "I only get the visions. But there's a woman, Melissa Burns, works at Pardell Paper Products. I have the address." He held up a slip of paper. "I looked her up through a cop who's a friend of the padre, and she's filed a restraining order against some bloke who did an operation on her eye, a real smooth fellow. I got a vision, and she's in trouble."

"Who bloody cares?" Spike asked with a snort. "I don't think you've figured out that you're not welcome, mate."

"Whoa, hey, let's not go eating the visitors, and what do you mean by 'she's in trouble'?" Xander stepped forward, stopping only when Angel's hand closed around his arm. Clearly Xander was not going to be allowed any closer.

"I don't know. The visions are not exactly clear--or pain free. I just know she's in major trouble, and from what the cop said, the guy who's stalking her is big trouble. Look, I'm not asking you to work for the Powers or even listen to me, but can you really walk away knowing that this Melissa woman is in trouble?"

Angel looked down at Xander, and Xander frowned in worry. "We can't ignore someone in trouble," Xander pointed out softly.

"We don't know if the vision is real or if it's designed to trap us," Angel argued.

Silence descended on the room as Angel and Xander stared at each other, but it was Spike's voice that finally interrupted the staring match. "If you're running a con, you always give the mark some accurate intel up front. Seems like if these gits are tryin' to suck you in, they'd give you some real victims to save so you could get your giant ego all poofed up."

Xander smirked as Angel turned his evil glare on Spike.

"Oi, I'm just telling the truth. Now, if you want to let the bird get killed, I got no problem with that."

"Well, I do," Xander interrupted.

Angel got a constipated expression--the one that suggested he really didn't want to do what he was about to do. "I could..."

"Hold on there, big guy," Faith interrupted. She braced the ax on her hip so that it looked marginally less intimidating... sort of. "If this is a human stalking a human, maybe you aren't the best one to send out. Besides, if these Powers are looking to trap you, it seems like you're the one person to keep away from the trouble."

"She's got a point," Xander quickly agreed. Angel glared at both of them in turn.

"If this is a trap, I'm going to deal with it."

"Right." Xander drew the word out sarcastically. "Sure, we'll just send big brooding you to a woman who has guy issues and then you'll tell her... what exactly?"

"That I want to help," Angel said, but he already had that defensive look.

Faith snorted and performed an elaborate eyeroll. "Angel, trust me. She's heard that line before. 'Oh, I only want to help you. You know I have your best interests in mind. I really like you.'" Based on the bitter tone of her voice, more than one person had said exactly that to Faith, and knowing what he knew of her background, Xander was guessing it had not turned out well. "Yeah, she's not buying that shit from some man, especially not a man she doesn't know. Strange men who offer help in return for nothing are always up to no good." Faith was looking more bitter than she had looked for quite a while. Maybe it was unrealistic, but Xander wished that Blair had been able to just wave a magic wand and made all Faith's pain vanish.

"Then I'll... um... I'll offer my services for a fee." And that was Angel's mulish expression. It looked a lot like his defensive look, only with more grrrrr in it.

"Angel, no offense but your people skills are...." Xander let that sentence fade away, but they all knew what he meant. If this woman was twitchy around men, she was going to be extra-special twitchy around Angel because the guy tended to set off people's internal alarms. Unlike Spike, he would forget to breathe or he'd go inhumanly still or he'd do something that just triggered people's "odd" trigger.

Angel glared. "I'll be nice. I'll convince her to let me help."

Faith walked up to Angel and patted him on the arm a little like someone might pat a dog. Angel's eyes narrowed, but Spike laughed out loud. "Babe, no offense, but you are not good with being nice. You're great at being good, but nice is a little more than you can handle. I'll take this one." Faith shifted the ax to her left hand and walked over to Doyle, holding her hand out. "Faith Lehane," she introduced herself.

"Allen Francis Doyle, but most people who aren't trying to annoy the life out of me call me Doyle."

"So, let's go kick some ass, and if you get me caught up in the middle of any shit, either I'll gut you or I'll let my two favorite vamps do it for me." Faith stroke over, plucked the address out of his hand and set the ax down against the front check in desk.

"I--" Doyle looked over at them, and Xander could see the confusion and panic in those eyes. Yep, he had no idea what he was dealing with, but he knew Faith wasn't a garden variety girl, even if she looked slightly more garden varietiesh with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a t-shirt that actually covered both her stomach and her boobs. Yeah, it was tight enough to show off her figure, but it was pretty non-sexual even while being sexy.

"Hey, Xand, why don't you come along?" Faith invited him. Xander hissed as Angel's fingers dug into his arm painfully.

"Sorry," Angel said softly as he loosened his grip, but he didn't let go.

"Hey, Big-A, face it. If we're trying to look friendly and not freak out the woman with the stalker, Xander's the biggest gun we've got."

"No." Angel didn't even debate it. Xander really would rather lay tile than run around dealing with weird stalker guys of the human variety. Vampire stalkers he had a pretty good idea how to deal with, but human stalkers were sounding more complicated. If Angel hadn't said anything, Xander probably would have turned down the invite, but no way was Xander letting Angel set the rules for him. Okay, so Angel set some rules, like Xander never again touching the throwing stars, which probably made them all a whole lot safer, but he was not setting this rule.

"Hey, I'm the guy who taught soldiers how to fight and not get an ass-kicking every time Spike jumped out from behind a bush. I deal with people every day in classes, and I'm actually pretty good at not getting killed around them. If this were a Moira demon or a nest of vampires, I would be right there on the keep-Xander-back bus, but these people are people. You are not the boss of me when it comes to me talking to people."

Angel's hand tightened. "This is not people. This is a situation that The Powers That Be have intervened in, and these are unknown powers that may or may not be evil."

"Lorne thinks they're eudemon," Xander pointed out. "So, he's voting for good guys."

"Lorne doesn't know everything."

"He knows lots," Xander countered.

"Father Peter insists that they are evil and that any attempt to present themselves as noble is simply a trick."

Xander grimaced. Honestly, Father Peter had made a pretty good case for the eviltude of the Powers. "Look, if I smell evil, if Faith smells evil, we will so get out of there, but even Spike thinks the tip is legit, and Spike is all on the side of letting the woman die. He has no reason for saying things that would lead to us taking this on."

"Bloody hell, leave me out of this," Spike quickly insisted. Leaping to his feet, he retreated behind the front desk and grabbed for the bottle of whiskey he kept hidden behind the tax bills.

Angel ignored him. "It could be a trap."

"And I could get hit by a bus. Seriously, Angel, unless you plan on going all Angelus on me and locking me in my room, you so do not get to tell me what to do unless I let you do the telling, and I am not in the mood to let you do the telling on this issue." Xander crossed his arms and tried to look firm. It wasn't easy because Angel looked like he was considering the whole Angelus plan. He really, really looked like he was considering it, and if he went there, Xander had exactly zero chance of stopping Angel.

Just when Xander expected Angel to drag him off to his room, Angel turned toward Doyle and vamped out. "If ye allow one hair on his head ta be harmed, it's you I'll be hunting," he warned. The tone was enough to give Xander the shivers, and Xander wasn't the one getting threatened.

"I'll protect him," Doyle promised.

Faith looked Doyle up and down and then snorted in disgust. "More importantly, I'll protect him. Come on Xander, let's go teach this bastard that it's not nice to pick on women." Faith jerked her head in his direction, and Xander bounced his way to her side. Yep, he might have a designated bodyguard in Faith, but he hadn't backed down to vampy overprotectiveness. Xander gave Angel a smile, half expecting him to come running out after them. He didn't.

"I'm driving!" Xander called. "Doyle, I have no idea what kind of driver you are, but after seeing Faith attempt to shove through a traffic jam like her slayer strength somehow made the car tougher, I am not riding with the crazy woman!" Xander gave Faith a smile and then ducked through the front door as she aimed a punch at his shoulder. She still caught him with a glancing blow.

Faith and Doyle followed out into the sun, and Xander headed for the huge tan Plymouth parked in front. He had no idea what Angel had against cars built within the last decade, but at least his old car ran well and he was fairly sure it would survive a head on collision with a train. Faith didn't even bother to call shotgun; she just shouldered Doyle out of the way, leaving him to get in the back. And that was another reason why Xander wanted to drive. If he didn't, he was so backseat boy.

"You are playing a dangerous game, winding him up like that. You better watch out or he's going to install some chains on your bed," Faith said with a laugh and a wink that made it very clear that she was thinking things about bed and chains that Xander really, really didn't want to think about. She held out the slip of paper with the address, but when Xander went to take it, she held it for a second, using that time to really give him the eye.

Xander pulled out into traffic and for a short time, the car was silent. He could practically feel Doyle studying them from the backseat, but he didn't worry about getting attacked from the rear because Faith was sitting sideways in her seat, one arm draped over the back, and it was pretty clear that she could grab him and throttle him in no time at all. Maybe Doyle realized that too because he was pretty quiet for a while.

Eventually Doyle cleared his thought. "I thought that even without the chains, he was going to improvise and tie you to the bed anyway. Is he always like that?"

"Like what?" Xander asked. Hopefully by the time he got home, Angel would have gotten the tile up to the bathrooms and he could lay it before he went to bed. If not, he was going to have to put it off for a week because he already knew he was going to be buried in homework for a while. He liked the whole purchasing and bookkeeping end of his construction classes way less than the building parts, so next week was going to be a pain. And somehow he didn't think his teachers would be amused if he just announced that he didn't have to care about cost overruns and budgeting for supplies because he told Angel what he wanted and Angel just bought it. The man clearly had money he was not 'fessing up to, and considering the trouble Angel and Spike could get in at night when they went out and did their vamp thing, Xander really wasn't going to think about it too much. Xander looked back, and Doyle was just staring at him in a mixture of disbelief and horror. "What?" he asked, brushing a hand over his face just in case he had ketchup on his face from lunch.

"Like what?" Doyle asked incredulously. "Like a completely overbearing and jealous lover, that's what."

Xander choked on his own tongue. No, no, no and more with the no, but Faith was already laughing. She reached back and slapped Doyle on the arm hard enough to jam him into the car door.

"You're attracted to big A!" she accused him.

"Hey, not nice!" Xander objected.

"Maybe a little," Doyle admitted at the same time. The light turned green, but Xander ignored that in favor of staring at Doyle in the mirror until the car behind him beeped. His gut was feeling a little unhappy, mostly because the thought of Angel doing the deed was... okay, it wasn't that bad, but Angel was definitely more Spike's speed, and Doyle was not nearly as speedy as Spike.

"Since when is it not nice to point out that one person is attracted to another?" Doyle asked, giving Xander a very pointed look in the mirror. Xander blushed as he realized that might not exactly be the politically correctest thing to say. Willow definitely would have backhanded him across the arm.

"Yeah, Xander," Faith jumped in. "What's wrong with another man admiring Angel's broad shoulders, his well defined muscles and his deep, haunted eyes?" Faith wiggled her eyebrows, and Xander could feel his blush starting.

"I never said..." he stopped because technically he had said. "I just meant that you shouldn't go commenting on other people's sexual preferences. It's rude," Xander finished, mentally congratulating himself for digging his way out of that hole. "How would you like it if I implied you were panting after girls?" Xander asked.

Faith put on her thoughtful look, the one that always made him worry. "Oh babe, I have no problem with girls. If there were any girls around other than Cordelia, I might give them a twirl, but even I'm not stupid enough to go there. But if you want to think about me and girls..." She gave him a wicked smile. Oh yeah, this was the old Faith, the Faith who could make anything look sexy. Since she'd moved back home, that cloak of danger and sexual need had slipped away, but clearly she still had it stashed somewhere, because she could pull it out when she wanted. Xander focused on the truck in front of him because the idea of Faith and Cordelia was doing not nice things.

"It's not the same with guys," he said, and maybe it was the fact that his brain didn't have enough blood that made him say that because he was back to being on the side of the politically incorrect.

"Oh?" Faith asked him in a dangerous tone.

"It isn't!" Xander snapped his mouth shut. Oh yeah, he knew when he was on thin, thin ice.

"I don't know about that," Doyle commented. "I usually chase the women, but I certainly don't mind admiring a man's figure. And personally, I'd be downright complimented if someone looked at me like I was the last piece of chocolate."

Faith laughed, "Yeah, Angel does have that lovelorn look down, doesn't he?"

"He... what?" Xander's voice squeaked.

"I haven't seen a man look that lovesick since I got dragged to an amateur production of Romeo and Juliet."

"What? No way. I know you're not talking about Angel, because no way is Angel in any way lovesick over me. I'm not the lovesick over type."

"Oh babe." Faith reached over and patted Xander on the arm as Xander pulled the car to the curb in front of Pardell Paper Products. "If you weren't so cute, that clueless look on your face would look stupid."

"Seriously? You didn't know?" Doyle asked. Xander sat behind the wheel and tried to figure out this odd feeling creeping through his guts.

"He likes me? But he likes Spike. I'm definitely not Spikelike."

"Fuck. You broke him. I'm making you tell Angel," Faith said. Xander turned to glare at her.

"I'm not Spike. There's no way Angel ever looks at me like that. He's brotherish. He's always doing the roughhousing and with the overprotectiveness and the grabbing... and I'm not helping my case, am I?" Xander fell silent. It was hard to talk when his brain was doing that odd rewiring thing. It was like after he figured out that Giles loved Buffy, even after he'd tried to get her killed with that stupid Watcher ritual.

"I'm not gay," Xander said softly.

"Lad, I hope you're saying that because you're a red-blooded American male so terrified of being called gay that you're in denial. If you really don't feel any attraction at all, I'm feeling sorry for Angel." Doyle offered that advice and got out of the car, leaving Xander alone with Faith.

He looked over at her, hoping that she would say something to make all the weird go away. She sighed. "Angel's going to kick my ass for telling you, but if I had to put up with anymore cluelessness from you two, I was going to call Blair in. Xander, you adore him, and you trust him."

"But... I'm not gay." Xander firmly exiled the thought that he'd been crushing on Michael Knight during one of his more idiotic phases.

Faith raised an eyebrow. "If that's how you look at people when you're not attracted to them, you have more problems than I do," she offered, but her voice had this softness to it that he wasn't used to hearing from her. The moment passed, though, and she reached over and slapped him on the arm. "But right now we have a damsel in distress to save. So suck it up. You can fall apart after we figure out how to get this asshole to back off." With that, she was out of the car, and Xander was left feeling a little dazed and a whole lot confused. Okay, he loved Angel, but not all love was sexual. He loved Willow, but Willow and sex together were enough to drive him back to therapy. And yet Angel and sex was not causing the Willow and sex gut-level ick.

Xander decided he really did need to suck it up because he didn't trust Doyle enough to back Faith up. Faith was heading for the parking lot, and he got out and hurried after her.

"This is her car," Xander heard Doyle say, but they were ahead of him. He turned the corner and found Doyle pointing at a car. "We should wait here."

Faith snorted at that suggestion. "Sure, we'll just lurk in the dark and jump out at her when she comes to get in her car. Men. You're just lucky that dicks are so much fun to play with or you'd be worthless," Faith commented, and then she strode toward the elevator without a backwards glance.

"Ouch. Is she always that rough on the ego?" Doyle asked as Xander came up.

Xander considered that for a second before he shrugged. "Yep," he agreed.

"No wonder you're subconsciously drawn to men." Doyle didn't give Xander a chance to reply before he trotted after Faith who was poking the elevator button.

The elevator doors opened, and Xander nodded and tried not to look totally out of place as a couple of guys in suits got off. One guy frowned at him, and Xander hurried into the elevator. Had that guy been cute? Okay, so he was cute in a Larry kind of way. He was a little scruffy for Xander's tastes. Xander stopped. Oh crap, he had a taste in guys. If he were on the totally heterosexual side of the fence, he wouldn't have a taste in men, would he? Xander wished he could ask someone, but all the guys he knew were already over the fence. Lorne hit on everyone, Spike and Angel were going it with each other. There was Giles, but Xander was so not going there. Besides, now that his brain had been rewired, he was more than a little freaked out by some of those long looks between Giles and Ethan Rayne.

"Is the whole world gay?" Xander whispered to himself.

"The word's bisexual, and if you're hangin' around with demons, pretty much," Doyle offered as the doors dinged and then opened. Faith just offered him another slap on the arm before he headed down the hallway.

"Hey, you, I'm looking for Melissa Burns," she called out to a guy standing next to one of those inspirational nature posters. The guy frowned, but he pointed down the hall, and Faith was off.

"We should probably stay close in case..." Xander grimaced. If Faith was feeling inappropriate, who knows what kind of trouble she could get into. By the time Xander caught up, Faith was leaning against the edge of a turquoise cubicle, looking down at a freaked out looking redhead.

"Did he send you?" she demanded.

Faith snorted. "Oh please. Men don't tell me what to do, and if some pencil dicked doctor told me to help him terrify some woman, he'd be reattaching his own prick." Faith offered. And now the nice redhead was looking even more freaked.

"Hey, maybe we should make introductions before totally making you think we're stalkerish because we are not into stalking. I'm Xander Harris. I go to the voc ed school downtown." Xander offered her his hand, which she ignored. He would have introduced Doyle, but the man had vanished.

"Look, the name is Faith," Faith offered, and Xander pulled his hand back. Okay, this wasn't going well. "I know about Dr. Pencil-dick. I know all about him, and I know his kind. He doesn't understand what real love is, which, hey, we can all be accused of that, but being fucked up doesn't give any of us the right to hurt each other. So, I thought I'd let you know that if he's giving you shit, you give me the word, and he'll eat that shit." Faith had on her slayer-look, the one that said someone was about to get dusty only there were a lack of candidates for dusting around.

"Why? Who told you about him?" Melissa stood up and backed up until her back was to the plastic organizer hanging from her cubicle wall.

"Why?" Faith inched closer and tilted her head. "Sister, you know why. You know why I want to find every asshole who takes advantage of women and castrate them. You feel it, too, don't you? You want to cut his balls off and shove them down his throat. You want to hurt him and watch his eyes when he realizes that it's you in control. You already know why I'm willing to throw down with him. So, are you five-by-five with that or would you rather handle small and spineless for yourself?" Xander held his breath, overwhelmed by the pain and the anger he could feel from Faith, and it occurred to him that he used to see this from her all the time, only he was so busy being distracted by her boobs that he hadn't noticed it.

Melissa's face sort of froze, and Xander stepped in before there was the calling of security guards. "Hey, she's not nearly as scary as she's making it seem like." He offered his best harmless smile.

"Yes, I am," Faith interrupted.

"Then why bring him?" Melissa asked, and now she was looking at Xander suspiciously. No one ever looked at Xander suspiciously. He was the harmless little brother type who inspired trust, and in the case of Riley's soldiers, stupid underestimations.

"He's here to remind me that I don't hate all men." Faith shoulder bumped him. "Xand here is the kind who denies his own needs just to make sure the people he loves are happy. He's the opposite of every other man I ever knew before him. Fuck, he let me hurt him, and he still forgives me because he's got more heart to him than a fucking army of assholes like this shit who's been giving you trouble. So, I'm asking you again. You want some help, or should I just fuck off and let you handle this ass?"

Melissa looked around, her whole body tight as though ready to run away even though there wasn't any running room. "It's not that easy," she whispered.

Faith nodded slowly. "No, it isn't. It never is. But if he pushes too hard, there are ways to push back. They aren't nice, but they sure as fuck work."

Melissa really focused on Faith, studying her. "He didn't hire you? He didn't send you here just to make me trust you?" Melissa sounded hopeful, and Xander was starting to hate this doctor a whole lot because it was pretty clear this woman had some pretty major mental health issues at this point. He wondered how she'd feel about a therapist who sometimes turned blue.

"Do I look like the person you'd send in if you wanted to earn someone's trust?" Faith demanded. That seemed to make Melissa stop and think for a second.

"No. You look more like the kind who I shouldn't be trusting." Melissa twirled a pencil in her hands, staring down at it sadly for several seconds. "There's something not normal about him, though. I'm not sure you want to get in the middle of this."

"Babe, if there's something not normal about him, I want in even more," Faith said as she stepped in and rested her hand against Melissa's arm. "Xand, go amuse yourself for a little while. My girl and me need to do a little talking."

Xander opened his mouth to point out that going without backup was not the smartest thing in the world, but when Faith looked at him, he closed his mouth without saying a word. Whatever was going on in Faith's head, she needed to do this. He nodded. "I'll be downstairs rearranging newly shorted out brain cells," he offered.

Faith smiled at him. "You do that, babe. More than one person is waiting for you to get a clue because you know that man is never going to figure it out on his own, not without you to give him a push. I have this, so head on back home and I'll catch up with you later."

Xander nodded and backed away. Faith understood Melissa in a way that he never could, so this was one problem he needed to trust her to handle. Besides, if Faith was right, he had more than enough trouble on his plate already.


	11. 11

Angel put the supplies down, frowned at the feeling of being watched, and turned. Xander quickly looked away, his tool-thing escaping his grip and clattering to the floor via a pile of tiles.

"Damn," Xander swore as he knelt on the ground next to the pile and ran his hand over the veined tile that he had just dropped the tool on. "Score one for quality materials," Xander offered with a lopsided grin, but the grin was just too wide and too awkward, and it didn't reach his eyes at all.

"Are you okay?" Angel moved closer, crouching down so he could look Xander in the eye.

"Yeah, totally, of course. Hey, I’m the definition of okay. See me be okay?" Xander skittered away from Angel's touch, but the smell of lust lingered in the air even after he'd darted to the far side of the guest room.

Angel blinked and tried to ignore a little part of him that roared and writhed in reaction to that smell. The demon wanted loose. Angel just hoped that Spike got back from Cordelia's soon because once he could feel the demon's needs so acutely, he could never escape until he let the beast out. Trying to control himself, Angel closed his eyes, but instead of finding some calm, he was assaulted with the memory of Xander on his knees. He opened his eyes.

"So, thanks for carrying those up. Any word from Faith? Is she still doing the female empowerment thing? I totally think it's good that she's doing the group therapy with Melissa. She can teach all the other stalked and raped women how to empower their inner scary Amazon women." Xander was bobbing his head like one of those ridiculous dolls Angel had seen in the back of a car window.

"She hasn't called." Angel frowned. Xander rarely tried to distract him anymore, and he had not been beset with random lust since the middle of his senior year. The incident with Faith seemed to have settled Xander's hormones as well as ruining his relationship with Cordelia.

Xander was compulsively wiping his hands on his shirt. "Yep, that's just like Faith. Off saving the world and bashing males everywhere at the same time."

"Has Faith bashed you?" Angel could feel his demon's lust and possessiveness tangle with a more primal anger. He stepped forward, intent on making Xander talk. If Faith was hurting Xander, Angel would not allow that to continue.

"That's your cranky face," Xander accused him, but he remained several feet away and crossed his arms defensively, so Angel assumed there was good cause for him to remain cranky. Xander was affectionate, physical and open—everything Liam had failed to be in life.

Well, Liam had been physical, but never the kind of physicality that Xander excelled in. Liam knew how to swive a whore. He didn't know how to touch her after. When his sister would sit on his lap and cling to him, he always felt uncomfortable. He always sat with her perched on the edge of his knee as he waited for his father to start some fight. The quiet touches became the calm before the storm, and Liam had lived in a wary expectation of the inevitable explosion.

And then he'd become Angelus and touching had been about power and control. Sometimes Darla would curl her fingers around his genitals and squeeze and watch his face for signs of pain, and if he showed them… Darla was not a forgiving sire. He'd thought that was normal until he'd watched Dru and William exchange soft touches that Angelus couldn't understand or forgive.

Xander had been the first person with whom Angel had found comfort and safety in physical closeness. Sometimes just having the boy's legs resting across his lap gave him a sense of comfort that Angel had never before found in his life. Now that Angel could feel that same, old awkwardness lying between him and Xander, he frowned. He refused to let Xander slip away without discovering what had changed.

"I'm cranky because something is bothering you," Angel said, struggling to keep as calm as possible. Xander's confusion and the lingering scent of lust were making his demon restless.

"There are so many things that bother me that it's not even funny. There's world hunger and the hole in the ozone layer and the... um... world hunger. There are starving kids in Africa." Xander nodded knowingly before turning to eye the door. "I should go get more grout."

Angel opened his mouth, but he didn't have time to say anything before Xander all but bolted for the hallway. Alone in the room, Angel growled before he headed after the boy. Whatever was bedeviling Xander, Angel was going to find it and throttle it until it yielded. Considering that Xander had stopped being affectionate after he had gone with Faith and Doyle to save that woman, Angel suspected Faith, Doyle, and The Powers That Be were all near the top of his list of suspects.

"Xander, whatever is bothering you, ye can discuss it with me," Angel said as he hurried down the stairs after him.

Xander stopped in the middle of the staircase, and Angel put out a hand to keep from running into his back. His hand ended up resting on Xander's shoulder, and he could feel a tremor go through Xander's body. "Xander?" Angel squeezed Xander's shoulder, but when Xander started to flinch away, Angel yanked his hand back. His demon nearly overwhelmed him, angry at the rejection and all but ready to overpower Angel's soul. He wanted. He wanted so badly that for a second, Angel gripped the handrail and rocked slightly with an almost irresistible need to grab Xander and prove that he had the right to touch him.

"Angel?" Xander asked softly, and the voice broke Angel out of his trance. He opened his eyes to find Xander staring at him, but the awkward distance was still there. Angel instinctively knew that if he reached for Xander, Xander would pull away. "You know I'm an adult, right?" Xander asked the question with a sharp desperation that Angel didn't understand.

Angel frowned. At one point in the not-distant past, at least half of his conversations with Xander had left him bewildered, but he wasn't used to feeling this confused anymore. "Yes, you are an adult," Angel said slowly, thinking the statement through as he searched for some trap in the words. Otherwise, Xander would not be looking at him so strangely.

"I'm not a kid. I'm going to be certified in construction management in less than a year, and in less time than that, I have to be settled down in a 'happily ever after kind of way,' unless we want Anyanka of the scary powers to whisk me away to some fantasy universe where Seven of Nine or the Maquis Captain Chakotay ravishes me on a regular basis. So clearly, these are adult issues and adult problems implying I am an adult. Things like that do not happen to kids. Or if they do, I do not want to know about it."

Angel stared at Xander, not even sure where to start trying to unravel the knot of words the young man had just created. Before he could say anything, Xander turned and started heading down the stairs again.

"Xander!" Angel called out. Xander didn't stop, but Spike looked up from his spot where he was leaning against the front counter and smoking a cigarette. Angel narrowed his eyes at the evidence of Spike's disobedience.

"I've told ye before that you'll keep that outside where the smoke canna harm anyone," Angel growled. It made him feel a little better when Spike's eyes immediately widened. The expression might look fearful, and he had no doubt there was some fear in there, but the darkening pupils also made it clear that Spike was feeling more than ready for a good swift fucking. Clearly he had not yet found his way into Cordelia's good graces, and a part of Angel was impressed that Spike had managed to control his own impatience this long. Most of Angel was just calculating all the ways to fuck Spike against the front counter.

"Just finishing it." Spike sounded defensive, but he immediately dropped the cigarette onto the marble floor and crushed it under his boot.

Angel stalked toward Spike. He might not understand Xander, but he understood Spike, and he understood the relationship he shared with the younger vampire.

Xander stepped right into Angel's path so that Angel had to pull up short to avoid touching Xander and receiving one more reminder of how quickly Xander would recoil from him. "Does it ever occur to you that other people around here are adults who can make adult-type decisions and who you should look at as adults?" Xander demanded, his arms crossed. Angel cocked his head in confusion. The uncertainty of earlier was gone, but the faint traces of lust remained, and Xander still had touch-me-not body language that made Angel's demon fret and stir.

Spike laughed. "You tell 'im, pet."

Angel glared, and Spike cleared his throat and looked away.

"I know you're an adult," Angel promised.

"I think I'm gay," Xander blurted.

Angel had no answer for that at all. He just stared at Xander, not breathing, not moving, and trying very hard to not think about the idea of sin. The moment that last thought entered his mind, Angel knew he was being hypocritical because he indulged in his own lust with Spike far too often to ever claim any sort of moral purity, but he wanted Xander to be free from that sort of venial sin. He wanted Xander to be safe from the consequences of that sort of sin. Angel already knew the guilt, the almost certainty of damnation, the fear and the self-hatred. He knew of the slow build of need until his sin and his passion overwhelmed all else, and he knew the moment after he'd filled that need when he'd found the emptiness in everything.

"Xander." Angel said the name softly, whispering it, and then he stopped because he didn't know what to say. He knew what Father Peter would have him say. He knew what Blair would have him say. He had no idea what he wanted to say.

"It's about bloody time you figured out the present is more important than the wrapping," Spike offered. "So, you have some bloke in mind when you made this big revelation?"

Angel growled warningly in Spike's direction.

"No... maybe. Well, yes." Xander blushed, and the scent of lust and need started drifting from him. Angel knew he had vamped out, but he couldn't control his own body well enough to force himself to hide the monster under the human mask.

Spike kept right on with his pointless blather. "You're not thinking of that evil lawyer the green bean is always trying to hook you up with, are you? You bring Lindsey around here, and I will bloody eat him."

"Lindsey?" Angel spit the name out, hating the person attached to it already.

"Do I look like the type to fall for a Lindsey?" Xander demanded.

"Yes," Spike answered quickly enough that Angel had some very unpleasant thoughts about ways to occupy Spike's mouth, like putting a fist in it. "Look, pet, why don't you get some sleep? You look done in."

Angel turned to study Xander. He knew what Xander looked like when he was tired—the dragging footsteps and the glazed stare that focused on nothing. If anything, Xander looked too wired to get any sleep at all, but Xander nodded. "Yeah, I should sleep. Tomorrow we're playing with big automated cutting machines that can take off whole limbs, so not cutting off an arm would be very good. I'll catch you guys tomorrow." Xander turned and fled upstairs. Fled. The sight of Xander running was almost enough to make Angel chase him down and sit on him until the boy said something that was not confusing.

A hand caught him by the arm. "You feeling peckish, mate?" Spike asked.

Angel shook his arm free of Spike's grip. "What's the matter, Spike, still not good enough to get in Cordelia's pants?" Angel smirked at the small flash of pain Spike showed, but then Spike shrugged.

"I reckon it's not taking me as long as it's taking some." Spike turned and headed for the kitchen.

"Don't walk away from me, boy," Angel warned darkly. Spike stopped and slowly turned, his body coiled for action, and Angel had no illusion about how this was going to end. His cock was already hardening in anticipation.

Spike raised an eyebrow.

Angel stalked closer, smelling the air. Spike might put on the façade of indifference, but he smelled of lust. If Angel reached out right now, he knew he'd find Spike's cock hard and hot and trapped inside those tight jeans.

"You're still panting after Cordelia and getting turned down, aren't you?" Angel purred. His anger leaked out through the words. "You can't even convince a human to bed you. I suppose I should take pity on you."

Spike cocked his head to one side. "You still got your soul pinned on tight?"

Angel took a quick step back. "What?"

With a snort, Spike turned his back and started for the kitchen again. "I'm getting' some blood to replace what you're about to take," Spike said over his shoulder, but then he muttered vampire-soft, "Nutty as Dru."

"Why would you ask about my soul?" Angel demanded as he followed. Spike was pulling packets of human blood out of the refrigerator, and he paused long enough to give Angel an incredulous look.

"No reason. Right then, what made Xander go off like that?"

If Spike had gone in search of a topic that would quench Angel's lust, he couldn't have found a better one. Angel dropped into one of the chairs at the table. "I don't know."

Spike gave another snort. "So, what has your knickers in a twist? I thought you'd be happy enough to have him finally stop clinging to this heterosexual rot."

Angel frowned. "Why would I be happy over this? The church says it's a sin. Homosexuals don't inherit the kingdom of heaven."

When Spike started choking on the blood he'd been drinking, Angel stood up, not sure what he should do to help. Spike tossed the half-full mug of blood into the sink, splattering blood across the white tile before he turned to face Angel.

"Bloody hell, you're kiddin', right?" Spike stared at him in horror, his mouth stained red with blood and his eyes yellow. "You're a fucking demon, mate."

"I have a soul," Angel roared back, and his demon rose up until he could smell the spilled blood and he could see every line of Spike's ridges. Spike had challenged him, and a part of Angel wanted to beat him until Spike crawled and apologized and just stopped trying to pull away. His childe was supposed to be loyal to him, not call him names.

Spike shook his head, and his demon features fell away. "Pet, you're not handling this very well. If Xander's ready to try out men, that means we can bring him into the clan good and proper. I know you want that."

"You willna touch him." Angel lunged forward and grabbed Spike by the neck, slamming him into the kitchen cupboards so hard that something cracked.

"Fair enough. I won't touch him," Spike said, his voice thin and strained because of Angel's grip. "But I know you want to take him."

Angel dropped Spike and stepped back. For a second, the world tipped and tilted as though the entire planet had lost its balance. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he forced his demonic needs and thoughts back, focusing instead on what he knew was moral and right. "My demon wants to take him," Angel admitted slowly, and even saying that much made his soul hurt. "Just because I want it doesn't mean I have a right to pull him into an unhealthy relationship."

When Spike didn't answer, Angel opened his eyes to find Spike staring at him with a confused expression. "Pet," he said slowly, using the same tone he had used so many years ago to soothe Dru. Angel frowned at the suggestion that he was as unbalanced as Dru. Spike cleared his throat and tried again. "You've been better for him than anyone else in his whole soddin' life. He has a mother who's incompetent, a father who's a fucking waste of human flesh, and friends that never gave him an ounce of credit. You gave him a safe place, you trained him to protect himself and paid for his bloody schooling. I know something about unhealthy relationships, and what you have is about ready for Hallmark. We should call them and suggest a line of human/vampire valentines. It's bloody disgusting how healthy you two are for each other." Spike patted his pockets and pulled out a cigarette and then just turned it around and around in his fingers.

"It's against god," Angel said softly.

"Fucking hell," Spike sighed. "I'm not exactly the one to talk about god, but call Blair before your head takes up permanent residence in your ass, Peaches." Spike started heading for the door. The smell of lust that had both placated and enraged Angel's demon had vanished.

"We're bad for them," Angel said softly.

Spike stopped at the doorway and leaned against the doorjamb. "If I believed that, I'd leave Cordy alone. The fact is, I can make her laugh."

"But are you really good for her?" Angel asked. He lowered himself into the chair again and looked up at Spike. "Maybe that's why she won't move in here, maybe that's why she won't sleep with you—she knows you're not right for her."

Pain flashed across Spike's face again, but this time he didn't cover it. He left it on his face for Angel to see, laying it out there like an offering. "She doesn't want to trust me until she knows that I love her more than my demon lusts after Faith. It's no different from a clan leader demanding a show of loyalty." Spike shrugged. "It's not all that different from old Heinrich demanding that Darla stake you to show her loyalty."

"That didn't work out well for him," Angel pointed out wearily.

"Yeah, but I'm not stupid enough to give up a chance at a bird like Cordelia." Spike came close and sat in the chair across from Angel. "I was bad for Faith. Didn't see it at the time, but she was bloody self-destructing. She asked me who I would follow, and I told her I'd leave her for you. The boy knew in two seconds that she was afraid and alone—that's why he was so quick to forgive her. But I didn't even bloody notice. So, I know about having both healthy and unhealthy relationships with the livin'. It's not the same with Cordelia. She doesn't have that same taste of desperation and lust clinging to her, driving her from one act to another."

"And what happens when Cordelia asks that same question?" Angel asked.

A smirk crossed Spike's face. "She already did. I told her that I bloody walked away from you once, and I'd do it again."

Angel sat up straight, his possessive streak already demanding that he grab Spike and push the boy to the floor before proving that he had no right to choose a human over him.

"'Course, I also told her that it'd rip me apart. Vampires have needs that humans can't rightly fill. I adore my princess, but she'll never be able to fill the demon's need for blood. I asked her to not make me choose. And that is why you're still getting the great pleasure of buggering me."

"She gave you permission?" Angel asked, not sure how this conversation had gotten so strange so quickly.

Spike shrugged. "Girl's cosmopolitan. She knows that what we have isn't the same, and she knows I'll always stay loyal to her. Besides, it's not like I can bring a disease home. 'Course, we'll see if she's still as open when she finally lets me into her bed. We're both love's bitches, you know this, don't you?"

Angel just glared.

"Oh, we can bloody rail and complain and claim that we're the captains of our own bloody ships, but love is driving, and we're swabbing the decks."

"Your poet is showing," Angel said quietly.

Spike chuckled. "The boy is going to do what he thinks is right, even if it drives you right up a wall. So, if he thinks he's gay, he'll bloody well be as gay as he can. He never does anything by halves. I suggest you get your head out of your arse or the boy will be trawling bars looking for someone to teach him how to get properly buggered."

Angel growled. With another chuckle, Spike reached over and patted him on the arm. "Life was a lot easier when we just raped 'em into complying, but it wasn't nearly as much fun. Face it, Peaches, they're going to do what they want, and if we use our strength against 'em, we've already lost." With that, Spike left the room, leaving Angel sitting in the dark and wondering what he was supposed to do. He'd always hated feeling lost and ignorant, and that's exactly how he was feeling right now. Hell, he was feeling too damn depressed to even go and give Spike the beating and buggering he deserved.


	12. 12

"So, what's the emergency?" Cordelia asked as she strode into the hotel. Once in the lobby, she stopped and looked around. "This is almost passable in a retro-chic way if you don't look at the cheap paint job."

"Hey!" Xander objected without much energy. He had his head in a magical text and was reading as fast as he could. "This is quality paint, and I am a quality painter. I'm also a sore painter and a tired painter, but I am a quality painter."

Angel stepped forward, anxious about how these two might interact. In his experience, broken relationships led to pain and suffering, and he would save Xander from that suffering if he could. True, it had been nearly a year since they had dated and Cordelia was now dating Spike, but in his experience, a woman like Cordelia did not forgive or forget easily. And he certainly didn't want Xander slipping and announcing his sudden interest in homosexuality. Cordelia would torture him with it.

Besides, the fewer people who knew that, the greater the likelihood that Xander could quietly change his mind and... Angel cut that thought short because the idea of Xander finding a girl pained him almost as much as the idea of Xander's soul being in danger of perdition or purgatory. A long phone conversation with a very irate Blair had not convinced him to accept the risk that Xander's soul was in danger as a result of his willingness to commit sin.

"Cordelia, the emergency call was for Spike," Angel said firmly, stopping short of asking her to leave because he knew how that would end. Spike was right about one thing, the human members of his clan did not react well to being told what to do and physically forcing them was an invitation to failure.

Cordelia strode in and turned a circle as she examined every corner of the lobby. "Spike and Faith and Father Peter and some guy named Lorne, so that sounds like an all-call to me. Since I don't have any auditions right now, I decided to come and get you out of whatever trouble you've managed to get yourselves into. You clearly need some feminine influence around here."

Xander stood up and rubbed a hand wearily over his eyes. He'd only been reading for a couple of hours, but they were red. Angel mentally made a note to take him in to have his eyes checked. "We have female influence. Faith is very influential."

"Influential? Yes. Female? Questionable," Cordelia announced. "So, what is the big emergency?"

Angel might have lied and claimed they had some slime demon that posed an immediate threat to her shoes, but Graham called out, "Angel, I need you in here!" Angel took off running for the back, Xander right behind him. In the back room, Riley had clearly woken up from Angel's earlier punch, and he snarled through fangs red with his own blood. Two neat holes in his lower lip sluggishly bled, and Riley had managed to shake loose of about half the chains Graham had used to bind him.

"Get back," Angel barked at the humans before he focused on Riley. "Sit down or I'll strip the skin from your back," Angel warned, his voice dark with threatened violence. Riley's eyes turned yellow, and he snarled louder. Angel had learned to control his demon in many, many circumstances. He had yet to push Xander down and take him or discipline Faith for her irreverence, and he could certainly see how someone might accuse him of being cowed by Cordelia. However, he was not going to stand in his own territory and have a fledging snarl at him. Angel surged forward and slammed his body into Riley's—driving his teeth into Riley's neck before Riley could react. Riley roared, but the sound quickly turned into a whimper. Angel pulled his fangs out, but he kept Riley pinned against the wall for several seconds. "Behave, boy," he warned.

When it seemed that Riley decided to remain quiet, Angel turned around to find the humans staring at him.

Unsurprisingly, Cordelia recovered first. "That was a little unexpected. Who turned Buffy's Ken doll into the walking dead?"

Angel suspected that Cordelia had been spending entirely too much time with Spike. Then again, even before Spike, she had never been the most tactful person. Angel sent the Lord a quick prayer of thanks that vampires could not father human children because a child of Spike and Cordelia would be intelligent enough to take over the world and vicious enough to make the world regret it.

Xander jumped in. "You know, that is so not important. I mean, the important thing is to make sure that we're supporting him because supporting him is supporting Buffy, and we're all about supporting Buffy when she needs support, right Graham?" Xander turned to the other soldier who seemed a little dazed by the flurry of words. Either that or he was still having trouble dealing with the fact that his commanding officer had spent most of the drive to LA trying to get free of the chains and eat him.

Graham nodded. "Exactly. The objective is to provide tactical support for Buffy."

"And supporting Buffy probably means we shouldn't let Riley starve. I should heat some blood."

Angel loved Xander, but the man was about as subtle as an out of control freight train when he was trying to keep a secret. And Cordelia was not stupid.

"I come bearing religious assistance of the Catholic variety," Lorne's voice called from the front.

"Oh thank God," Xander breathed as he pulled a packet of blood out of the refrigerator and grabbed for scissors to cut it open.

"Why?" Cordelia demanded. "What's going on that you're thanking god for a distraction, and do not think you can lie to me, Xander Harris."

"Anyone home?" Lorne asked as he stuck his head into the kitchen. "And by anyone, I mean anyone with a very big sword capable of standing between me and any out of control newly-made vampires. You really should get an anti-violence spell on this place, Cupcake."

Angel sighed at the addition of one more person to the madhouse. Lorne edged in. "So is this our temporarily out of sorts conquering hero type?" Lorne had obviously looked at Riley a little too long because vampy Riley snarled at him.

"Sweetie, this one is all yours." Lorne stepped to the side and let Father Peter come in. Doyle was right behind him. Angel spared the last man a dark glare since he was still considering the possibility that Doyle had said something stupid that had made Xander think of himself as gay--gay and unwilling to allow Angel the casual touches that Angel had grown used to.

"Angel." Father Peter said the name and then just stopped as he looked at Riley with wide, alarmed eyes. Father Peter had seen demons and vampires at graduation, but Angel doubted the man had a chance to really look at them as he ran from one fallen student to another, offering water and assistance and bandages. Now he was looking into Riley's yellowed eyes, and he stank of fear. "While I appreciate your vote of confidence, I can't exorcise a vampire. There is no enlightened soul to work with to expel the demon."

"There'd better still be a soul under there, or I'm going to be having a private discussion with certain people," Graham said, his lips tight with anger. Angel didn't comment because he could imagine his own anger if one of his clan had been caught up in this madness.

"This wasn't a normal turning. A spell imposed the features of a vampire over Riley without having him die first," Angel said, ignoring Graham's growing scent of anger. Riley, though, was having a harder time ignoring all the human smells in the room. Graham's anger and Father Peter's fear and Xander's distress had mingled into a perfume that was tempting even Angel, and he knew that Riley was quiet and crouching on the floor only out of fear that Angel would attack him again. His whole body trembled with a need to attack someone.

"A spell?" Cordelia asked suspiciously.

"Which is totally irrelevant. Or it's elevant only in that it was a spell and not a sudden case of death that caught up to him, but is there any chance you can maybe fix him?" Xander asked with a false cheerfulness that did little to hide his rather transparent attempts to obfuscate.

Cordelia crossed her arms. "Buffy or Willow?" she demanded.

"What?" Xander looked honestly confused now.

"You only get that idiotic look when you're desperately scrambling to cover for someone. The only two people you'd cover for in Sunnydale are Buffy and Willow. The fact that it's Buffy's boyfriend who's gone all grrr suggests that it might be her because I know for a fact that she's had the hots for more than one vampire to come through town. But it's magic, and magic always leads me back to Willow, the girl who doesn't know her own limits."

"That sounds like a fun bunch," Doyle said softly.

For a couple of seconds, the room was silent as Corelia glared and Xander shifted his feet nervously and Angel tried to figure out how to defuse the situation. Usually by now Spike would have made an inappropriate joke, but Angel doubted that he could use that strategy.

It was Graham who broke first. "We aren't sure, but we think Willow cast a spell that went wrong. She made an offhand comment that Buffy kept disappearing into our command center, and every soldier who returned to base physically vanished. Fourteen men and women are just gone. She called Giles blind, and he's lost his vision, she said that Jenny was jealous of her magic, and by the end of the day, Riley had to restrain Jenny to prevent her from killing Willow."

"And him?" Cordelia asked.

For a second, Angel could see the raw fury on Graham's face, and then he hid that behind a more professional and neutral expression. "Willow said that she wished that Buffy was in love with a demon so that she understood how much it hurt to be left because her lover's instincts were more important that she was."

Angel flinched at hearing the facts laid coldly out on the table, but it was all true. If anything, Graham was understating the disaster. Willow's comment that she didn't care whether Sunnydale was overrun with demons was certainly keeping Spike and Faith busy. Angel would have gone himself, only someone had to keep Riley under control, and Angel didn't trust Spike to not stake him. As a soldier, Riley was a tolerably even-tempered man and respectable fighter. But this vampire who wore his face was a caricature of a vampire--he was all hunger and fury with none of the humanity that tainted even the newly risen fledge.

"So, this isn't natural?" Father Peter asked. "I think I need to consult with someone with more experience. Can you keep him here safely?"

"He'll stay here," Angel said firmly.

"And I think I'll just give the good father a ride anywhere other than here," Lorne quickly offered. "Feel free to not need me for any more of this. In fact, I think I'm going to suggest to Orn that he visit the city later because this is clearly not a good time for guests."

"We're too busy now," Angel agreed. "And I assume you're leaving with them?" Angel finally turned his attention to Doyle since it didn't look like the man was leaving. Common sense told Angel that he was probably being unfair to Doyle, but the appearance of Doyle and the unhappiness of Xander had come too close together for him to dismiss his gut-level displeasure at having the man around.

"I probably should," Doyle agreed, ducking his head in a gesture that looked almost Xander-like in its insecurity. "I had a vision, but compared to what you already have going on, it seems rather insignificant. I'm seein' a whole lot of folks emotionally vomiting all over each other on topics from jealousy to love, but the Powers can figure out what's wrong for themselves."

"Hey," Xander interrupted. "Someone has to run out for Roaloa's dinner and make sure he's doing okay in his room and we have lots of research going on. Any chance you could hang out and help around the place? I'm sure Angel could pay for a little day help."

Angel turned to stare incredulously at Xander, but where the boy's face had transmitted every guilty thought just a second ago, now he had on a sweet smile that shone with an honest cheerfulness--which was annoying because Angel knew when he was being manipulated.

"I wouldn't want to impose," Doyle said, but he also left Father Peter's side and walked toward Xander. "You have anything around for dinner?" he asked. Xander turned to the refrigerator, pulling it open to offer their food, and Angel conceded defeat.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Father Peter vowed with a concerned look toward Riley. The fledge just pressed back into the corner and glared at everyone.

"And I won't be," Lorne offered as a parting comment before he left with Father Peter.

Angel sighed and tried to just think for a second. Hopefully, Buffy would get Willow to undo all this, but if that failed, Angel was at a loss as to how to fix any of this. Buffy would be crippled without any support, and with Giles blind and the Initiative unit missing in action, she would need some sort of support. He just truly did not want to take his clan back into that situation. There would be difficulties trying to integrate Faith with any family group that included Giles, and Xander's feelings for Willow were still tangled enough that Angel hated to put him in a situation where Willow would cling to him, and after Oz's abandonment, he knew that was exactly the situation they faced.

"Hey, we are so not out of options," Xander blurted out. Angel looked around and saw that Graham's expression had turned murderous.

"She did this to him." Graham didn't even try to hide his hatred. "She turned him into a vampire."

"Hey, and I got possessed and tried to rape Buffy and Faith accidentally staked a human and Angel... okay, I'm not coming up with any stupid stories, but I'm sure there are some."

"Many," Angel agreed unhappily.

Xander nodded. "Living on a Hellmouth, you just have to know that sometimes the good guys are not always the best at being good. Buffy herself burned down a gym, and I'm voting, 'woo hoo' for vampire carnage, but I know her school pretty much just thought it was arson."

Cordelia interrupted him with an, "Oh, please. Look, Graham, if you have any dark little corners of your mind, you'd better believe that the Hellmouth is going to bring them out. Get used to the idea. Angel, is it just me, or is Riley being weird, even for a vampire?" She took a step closer and studied him.

"He is," Angel admitted. He walked over and took the mug of warmed blood out of Xander's hand. Riley would attack if a human got close enough to feed him.

"Most vampires aren't like this?" Graham asked, and now he studied Riley more closely. Ignoring the other soldier, Angel carefully crouched down next to Riley and made eye contact with him. Bound hands opened and closed in distress, and Angel was guessing that Riley desperately wanted to lunge for the blood. Well, the first lesson of a fledge was to learn to control that need. He waited until Riley dropped his gaze in submission before he held the mug to Riley's lips. Riley's gaze darted to him for a second before he focused his gaze on the mug and drank greedily.

Xander waited until Riley had started drinking before he answered softly. "Jesse was big with the grrrr, but he was still Jesse. He still wanted Cordelia and he... he didn't exactly have tons of respect for me. And looking back, that was very much like Jesse."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Oh please, Jesse was one of those insecure little boys who thinks that making other people feel small makes him look bigger."

"He was my friend," Xander said softly. Angel was surprised when Cordelia actually moved closer to him and stood so close that her shoulder brushed against Xander.

"He was a crappy friend. And the way he hit on me was disgusting. He didn't want me—he wanted people to see him with me, which is not the same thing." Cordelia looked at Xander with an expression of pain and fondness, and her voice was soft with emotion. "When you wanted to date me, you liked me, not because of what it would do for your reputation to be seen with me... not that I let you be seen with me until I was sure of that."

Xander frowned. "You didn't really think..."

With a shrug, she nodded. "Too many boys were like that. When you let me push you into closets, I knew you weren't. Of course, you're also stupid and you'll kick yourself for the rest of your life for letting me get away, but we can blame that on the influence of your Y chromosome." She looked at him for a second before focusing on Riley. "And no, you aren't getting a second chance. I do not give stupid men second chances," she said, her voice sharp again. "So, what's wrong with Riley that he's all the grrr and none of the Riley left?"

"I don't know," Angel admitted.

"Someone needs to slap Willow," Cordelia said before she turned and headed for the front.

"Hey, no slapping my Willow!" Xander called after her, but there wasn't an answer. He sighed and gave Angel a resigned look. "I'll show her the research I've been working on." Angel watched him go after her and wondered if maybe a little attraction didn't still exist there. If it did, Angel knew that Spike would be more than willing to share, and that might convince Xander that he wasn't gay. Angel just wasn't sure about God's opinion on sharing women.

"And you," Angel said, standing up and moving toward Doyle.

"I should go help them... do something," Doyle said, his voice a little panicked as he tried to get to the door, but Angel stepped into his path, blocking his escape.

"What did you say to make Xander think he's gay?"

"Me?" Doyle squeaked the word. "Buddy, I didn't say anything. We went, Faith did her thing with Melissa, and I caught a cab back to my hotel. That was the end of that."

Angel narrowed his eyes. "You're lying," he said quietly.

"About what I said? Absolutely not. About nothing being said, you bet your bottom dollar I am, but that's Xander's business. He's a good man with a good heart and he knows himself well enough to make up his own mind about things. Besides, he's surrounded by demons. He doesn't have a whole lot of heterosexual role models, if you know what I mean."

"Demons are gay?" Graham asked. Angel turned on the man, angry at the interruption. Graham took a step backwards and held a hand up. "Not my business." Clearing his throat, he turned his attention to a stack of papers on the table that he had brought with him.

Angel turned back to Doyle. "Leave Xander be or your visions and your headaches will be the least of your problems, understood?" Angel asked. Reaching out, he grabbed Doyle by the throat before the man could retreat. Doyle turned green and little spikes broke out all over his face.

"Understood," Doyle agreed, his hands clinging to Angel's arm, but he didn't try and fight his way free.

Angel let go. "And I'm not dealing with whatever the Powers want to send my way."

"I already understood that. Hell, I'm not planning on doing anything about the touchy feeling verbal spewing I saw in this last vision," Doyle agreed. "Father Peter makes some sense on the matter of visions."

"Father Peter makes sense on a lot of fronts, which is why you'll leave Xander alone," Angel said firmly.

"Got it," Doyle agreed.

"Angel?" a confused voice asked. Angel turned around and found Riley kneeling on the floor. The chains were still wrapped around him, but the vampire features had fallen away to reveal a very confused human face. Nothing had changed, not a whisper of magic was in the air, but somehow the spell had broken.

"Riley? Are you okay?" Graham asked. He took a step forward, but he hovered just beyond the reach of Riley's feet. Clearly he didn't want to get knocked on his ass again.

"I don't know," Riley said slowly. Angel turned his back on Doyle and moved to Riley's side, kneeling down to study the soldier.

"The vampire is gone. He's human," Angel said after a second. There wasn't even a lingering scent of vampire.

"Thank God," Graham sighed.

"The vampire?" Confusion was quickly turning to alarm in Riley's face. "Oh God. I was a vampire. I tried to bite you." Riley looked up at Graham.

"Thankfully, you were no Spike. You didn't get a fang near me," Graham said with more than a little amusement as he pulled a key out. "Let's get you unchained."

Riley frowned. "Are you sure I'm okay?" Riley turned to look to Angel for confirmation. Angel could feel his demon settle under the evidence that in this house, he was the one in command. His soul knew that the reaction was bestial and stupid, but he couldn't escape the fact that he did feel better for having this interloper acknowledge his superior strength and knowledge.

"The vampire is completely gone," Angel said, nodding for Graham to unchain Riley. "I'm going to call Sunnydale and find out what happened."

"Angel?" Graham called just as Angel was turning to leave. Angel glanced over. "Could you ask about the people who disappeared into HQ?" The stress was clear in Graham's voice, and Riley's face twisted with worry immediately.

"I'll ask," Angel agreed. He left Graham to unlock Riley as he went to the front, Doyle trailing after him. Without a word, Doyle hightailed it for the front door. Clearly, he had decided to not take Xander up on the offer of some work, and for that, Angel was incredibly grateful. It was hard to control his demon when he was angry, and the very sight of Doyle reminded him of how much he hated how his relationship with Xander had changed.

Out front, Cordelia and Xander were already researching. "The spell broke," he told them. From the way Cordelia's body sagged, she'd been more worried than she let on.

Xander blurted out his relief. "Thank God, because your research library sucks, Angel. Sucks like a fledge... and by that I mean that it sucks badly, but do new fledges suck badly?" Xander thought about that for a second. "We need more books here for when things go wonky there."

"I agree," Angel said. As much as he hated to admit it, he had always relied on Giles to know whatever there was to know in books, and his own few books were a poor substitute. As Liam he had never had much time for books, and as Angelus, he had burned more books than he'd read. Of course, during his cursed years before Xander, he'd found books were his only escape from the pain of hunger and loneliness, but he doubted his first edition of The Count of Monte Cristo would be helpful.

"Well, if you're going to get a library going, you should computerize the topics so you have a searchable database. None of you know how to do that, so I'll start work next Monday, and you'd better pay me more than you pay the manual labor around this place," Cordelia said with a glare in Xander's direction.

"Hey, you try matching moldings with a building this old! I earn every penny of the salary I don't earn," Xander shot back.

"Whatever. You sand things. I'm talking about organizing and cataloging a library. And do you even have any sort of system to make sure that Lorne's friends are paying proper tribute? I mean, all of you are useless with money. You clearly need a keeper."

"I don't—" Angel started to say.

"Have a clue. I know that," Cordelia announced. "Xander, find me a desk, something classy that I can use for a computer station, and make it something made from real wood, not some cheap put-it-together-yourself thing. That is so tacky, and I will not have people walk in here and think we are tacky people." Cordelia looked first at Xander and then at Angel. "Speaking of appearances, let's make sure that people see me first. You two have so much tacky going that not even my skills are up to the job of trying to make you look chic."

"I'll have you know I'm blue-collar chic," Xander countered.

"Doesn't that clash with your new gayness?"

Angel misdialed as his fingers hit random numbers on the phone. He looked over, expecting some sort of major conflict as Cordelia brought up the subject. Instead Xander was rolling his eyes at her.

"Oh please, your boyfriend is homicidal gay chic, so don't even go there."

"I just thought going gay might teach you a little style, but that plaid screams 'fashion-dork'."

"It screams comfortable," Xander disagreed. "Some of us don't have to put on thousand dollar dresses and shove our feet into tiny shoes to look good."

"I look good in anything. Now you in a thousand dollar dress would make for one sorry drag queen." Cordelia took all Xander's papers off the nearest desk, scooped them up and dropped them on the counter in a disorganized pile.

"Hey, that's my desk."

"Then get me one that's more appropriate for my position as manager and chief financial officer, and I'll let you have it back."

"And people wonder why I'm gay," Xander said with an exaggerated sigh that sounded more amused than anything else.

"Because after me, clearly no women can measure up," Cordelia answered immediately, but Angel was disconcerted by the look she sent in his direction. She put a hand on her hip and clearly expected something from him, but Angel had no idea what that might be.

Turning his back, Angel hung up the phone and then picked it up again, this time trying to dial Giles' place without poking at random numbers. Behind him, Xander and Cordelia argued about desks and the placement of desks and plaids, and Angel wondered when he had let things get so out of control. Probably about the time he'd let Cordelia walk in the front door of the hotel. He considered that for a second. The truth was, he'd been pretty much out of control about the time he first allowed Xander in the front door of his apartment with an armful of stupid movies. Well, there was very little he could do about it now, and after three hundred years of life, he knew enough to let Xander go down in flames on the desk argument. It looked like Cordelia was moving in on them.


	13. 13

"Sandman!" Faith called out. Angel looked up in time to see Faith run across the lobby and throw herself on Blair. Blair stumbled, his back hitting the wall as he gave an oomph.

"Oh man, mostly human ribs here, Faith! Let me breathe." Blair was laughing as he said it, but Faith let him go with a slap on the arm.

"Did you get tired of all them high and mighty types and decide to come slumming with us?" Faith gave him an eyebrow wiggle. Angel could see Blair's dismay at that comment, but before he could answer, Faith was already dragging him farther into the lobby. "I could find us some hot dance spots, I know you'd like that."

"Totally!" Blair enthusiastically agreed, but Angel could see the small frown that hadn't completely vanished. Clearly, he didn't like Faith criticizing herself, and Angel felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe he hadn't done enough to make Faith feel successful. Angel hadn't been in a mood for a visit from Blair and his very strong opinions anyway, but now he was even less enthusiastic. He didn't need someone to remind him of how inadequately prepared he was for the emotional needs of humans.

Blair, however, didn't seem to notice Angel's discomfort as he bounced a bit and smiled widely. "I am all over the LA scene, you know that. And I finished my first round of masters classes a little early, and I think the profs were sick of the wunderkind pointing out their out-of-date research, so I decided on a tactical retreat."

Faith was smiling wider than Angel had ever seen her smile. "Pissed 'em off, didn't you?"

Blair laughed. "You know it. I am the master of pissing people off." He finally looked around the lobby, his eyes finding Angel. Considering how their last phone conversation had gone, Angel didn't want Blair here, but if he said that out loud, he was going to have more than one unhappy human around to make him regret it.

"Hey, Angel. Man, the hotel is looking great. Xander must be working triple time around here. It's only been... what? Three months?"

"Four," Angel answered.

"Man, four months, and this place is looking great. Xander is a construction god. And how is my dark princess really doing?" Blair asked as he slipped an arm around Faith's waist.

"Five by five."

"Really?" Blair took a second to really study her.

Faith gave a half grin and shrugged. "Still have good days and bad, but I'm giving myself permission to have bad days, so yeah, five by five."

"Oh man, you've just described what it means to be human." He gave her a brilliant smile. "So, where do I check in?"

Angel stiffened. While he wanted to suggest that Blair stay somewhere else, he just didn't know how to do it. Xander had more rooms open and ready than they needed, and Blair was about as stubborn as Xander when he got his teeth into a subject.

"You're family. No check in required, although we should probably tell Cordelia if we want to avoid another speech about the proper running of a business." Faith's expression twisted into something half-amused and half-resigned.

"Oh yeah. I so want to meet her. Man, she sounds like...."

"Someone you'd go for?" Faith finished for him. Blair gave her a dirty look. "Oh please, Sandman, you are so into partners that push you around a bit. I lived with you for a year, so no way are you pulling the wool over my eyes. Although if you don't cut your hair soon, I'm not going to have to pull anything over them." Faith reached up and tugged on a lock of hair.

"I'm going to grow it out so that I can just shove it into a ponytail and forget it. I hate the whole Brillo-pad look, and when I was in Irian Jaya, I lost my scissors and I ended up looking like I'd stuck my finger in a light socket." Blair pantomimed his hair sticking out at all angles. "But it was great. Three weeks with the Kombai Tree people, and get this, they have Sentinel legends. It was wild. The minute I asked them about people with extraordinary senses, they were like... whoa... spilling over with stories and legends. It was awesome." Blair's hands were flying as he talked.

"So, does that mean you aren't interested in a woman who can verbally castrate Angel or that you would rather just change the subject?" Faith asked with a wink and a shoulder nudge.

"I plead the fifth," Blair said with a laugh.

Angel shifted as Spike walked into the room. While vampires were normally quite promiscuous, Spike wasn't. He had learned about relationships under the tutelage of Angelus, and Angel was the first to admit that he had twisted William's love into something desperate and fearful and jealous. Now, he just wasn't sure how Spike would react to this kind of joking, so he moved out from behind the counter so he could intercept any violence. Spike stopped six or seven feet from Blair and looked him up and down slowly. "You're interested in Cordy, are you?"

"Whoa, I never said that."

"If you do start thinkin' it, you'd just better remember to go through me first. Otherwise, I might do to you what I did to that wanker who thought he could go sniffing after Faith," Spike warned, and that didn't sound like a joke.

"Spike," Angel warned with a single word.

"Sod off, Angel. I'm just makin' sure that Blair and me understand each other."

"I'm totally understanding," Blair nodded. "There will be no sniffing after Cordelia without permission."

"There will be no what?" And that was Cordelia's voice. Angel flinched as she came out of a back storage room, her hands on her hips and her scent underlaid with the heavy smell of vampire. Spike smirked. "I know that no one was talking about sniffing around me, because if they were, someone is going to be sleeping in his own room for a very long time."

Considering the narrow-eyed look Cordelia was giving Spike, Angel was glad that he was not in a relationship with her. While she had a far more loving nature than she generally allowed others to see, she still shared far too many traits with Darla for Angel to be completely at ease around her. Spike, however, pursed his lips and stalked toward her, a predator intent on showing his power and grace to a prospective mate.

"Now, luv. I'm just pointing out that you're beautiful enough that any man would have ta be insane to not want you."

Cordelia sniffed.

"And if some bloke wants to try to talk his way into your bed, he'd bloody well do it right and be up front with it."

Cordelia looked at Spike like he'd just grown another head. "Oh please. You vampires can play whatever little weird little vampire games you want, but when the day comes that you aren't enough for me, you'd better believe you're never getting in my bed again," she told him with a tone of voice that would have befitted a queen. But she also reached out and rested her palm against his cheek. Spike tilted his head, pressing into her hand for a second before he turned back to Blair and Faith who were watching with equally amused expressions.

"Right then, I changed my mind. You sniff around her, and I'll pull your intestines out through the hole I'll make in your soddin' chest."

"I think they're in love," Blair said in a stage whisper to Faith.

"Whatever," Faith said with a roll of her eyes. Faith's words seemed normal enough, but from the sharp look Blair gave her, he was disturbed by them, and once again Angel had the unpleasant feeling like he was outside his own clan, looking in, desperately trying to understand things that were just beyond him. Angel was already anxious for Blair to leave.

"So, from the way Faith is clinging to you, I take it you're Blair," Cordelia said. The sharp edges hadn't yet all softened between the two women, but Blair didn't react to that underlying anger at all as he reached out a hand to shake with Cordelia.

"She's the closest thing I have to a sister. And considering my demon relatives think I'm too human and my human relatives think I'm the spawn of hell, any family I have is pretty damn important to me."

"You have Naomi," Faith said softly.

"Yep, you and Naomi, my two girls... women... my very empowered women. Man, I'm going to get my ass kicked if I can't break this habit of saying 'girls'," Blair said with a sheepish grin. "So not PC. So, you're the woman who's decided to keep tabs on Spike. Man, you have bigger balls than I do."

Faith laughed and slapped Blair on the back. "Remember, I've met your girlfriends. I didn't hear any of them complain about you lacking anything."

Blair turned vivid red. "Maybe we need to change the subject. So, where's Xander?" Blair asked with a wide and plastic smile. Angel suppressed a growl.

Spike glanced over at Angel with a frown, but it was Cordelia who answered. "He's off at that school of his, hopefully learning something useful like how to install a spa tub. And Hilssa needs something to rest her tentacles on, so I'm assuming she's asking for more pillows, but I am not the maid. Just because someone doesn't have any demon blood does not make her the whipping girl for every Tom, Dick and Uitalia that comes in here, and I think we need to post that next to the check in desk." Cordelia turned and headed back to her desk behind the counter. Blair was left looking at her with wide eyes that he eventually turned toward Spike.

"Wow. Should I offer congratulations or sympathy?"

Spike flipped two fingers in Blair's direction before he followed Cordelia.

"Come on, Sandman, it looks like you and me get to play room service. Otherwise, Angel's going to end up going up, and every time Angel tries bringing something to a guest, they get all weird about the head of the clan doing it, like he's offering them some big honor."

"So, having a slayer deliver pillows isn't a big honor?" Blair asked, clearly confused.

"Hey, babe, I just plan on pointing out the room. You're going to be delivering the pillows. Consider it payment for room and board."

Faith took Blair's bag away from him and slung it over her own shoulder before urging him toward the stairs. Angel watched all this feeling out of control and resentful. He wanted Blair gone before Xander could come home and Blair could reopen the painful conversation about Xander's sexual orientation. However, Angel didn't have any illusions about his ability to get Blair out. Faith was happily chatting to him as she guided him up the stairs, and Cordelia was adding his name to her map of guests in the rooms. Even worse, she had written Blair's name next to a room in the wing where family stayed instead of assigning him to the guest wing.

"He's in 225!" Cordelia yelled.

"Got it," Faith called back down. Angel was clearly outvoted on this issue. His demon stirred fitfully, unhappy at the way the others had discounted his opinions, and he knew it was irrational, because he had never voiced his opinions for them to contradict. They were acting without knowing of Blair's bitter words over the phone. However, what Angel hated most was the way Blair had made him feel like an untutored child in need of a lecture. He hated that, and he hated the way he looked at Blair and just knew that Blair understood Angel's clan better than Angel did.

Angel spent the afternoon haunting the lobby, not able to sit and focus on any of his work. He had financial records that needed tending and magical reference books to track down, and he'd been in the middle of reading The Lord of the Rings, which Spike and Xander both insisted was the greatest novel ever written, even if Angel found that the author had borrowed extensively and not always successfully from the Elder Eddas of the Vikings. But these pastimes, which normally kept him occupied while Xander was out, had no appeal. And unlike a fledge who might sleep from sunrise until sundown, he couldn't escape into sleep.

When the sound of Blair's laughter and Blair's happy voice telling stories filled the lobby, Angel retreated to the basement, one space they had left largely unexplored. Xander said the plumbing needed extensive remodeling and didn't want the pipes bumped. He'd specifically described the torrential floods that would follow if anyone tried to use the space for training or if they just hit the pipes too hard. Now Angel wandered under the tangled web of copper and iron.

The long shadows and high, narrow windows looked the same as they had back in the 1940's and 50's when Angel had first lived here. This was the first place he'd lived in the Hyperion--lurking in the shadows and eating rats. Later, after he'd moved upstairs in an attempt to hide among humans, he'd hidden stolen money in these same pipes. Even though he'd been trying to help, Judy had turned against him just as surely as he'd turned his back on her--leaving her and all the other humans in the Hyperion to a demon that fed on their fear. His soul failed about as often as his human self had.

His guts felt like curdled milk. Blair had made it perfectly clear who he considered perfect for Xander, but Angel knew the danger that lay down that path. Encouraging Xander to pursue homosexuality was putting his soul in danger. Encouraging Xander to pursue him...

Angel closed his eyes and leaned back into the cold brick wall. He could feel the beam of sunlight from the high window like a fire that he was holding his hand too close to. Angel reached out and let the sunbeam fall on the back of his fingers. The skin bubbled and smoked, and Angel watched as light turned his dead flesh to kindling.

When a tiny flame appeared and the smell of burning flesh filled the dank room, Angel yanked his hand back. Kindling... that's what he was. And Blair wanted him to tie himself to Xander. Right now, Angel felt like he was barely afloat in the moral abyss of his life, but his ship was always listing and taking on water and in danger of sinking. And Blair wanted Xander not only standing against the church but also tied to a sinner so black with sin that hell was nearly as certain for him as it was for Spike. Father Peter talked about forgiveness and redemption, but the priest clearly never understood the depth of Angel's sins or the pleasure he'd taken in committing them.

Angel thought about the man he'd seen shot in a small diner. He'd had his soul then, but he'd fed from the dying man instead of getting help. He'd left a demon to feed on the humans in the Hyperion. He'd been a drunken failure of a son. Even if he couldn't convince Xander to change his mind about being gay... even if Blair's arguments about the existence of homosexuality in the natural world were true... he couldn't let Xander turn to him.

Putting his charred hand into the weak sunbeam again, Angel watched as his flesh shriveled away from the light. If Xander ever turned to him, Angel knew he was too weak to let go. Xander was too much a part of his life now, and if Xander ever allowed Angel in his bed, Angel would pull Xander with him into hell before he'd let go.

His hand caught on fire, and for a second, Angel watched it burn before he pulled it back. He was tempted. If he just didn't put the fire out, it would consume him, and the pain of that was still less than the pain of understanding his own damnation.

"Fucking hell." The curse came right before Angel was tackled to the ground, the fledgling fire on his hand smothered by Spike's body. "You great sodding arse. Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Spike demanded as he rolled away. Angel pulled himself to the wall and sat on the cold ground, his back against the cinderblock wall. He didn't answer.

Spike was a silent statue, motionless in the shadows. Seconds ticked by, but Angel couldn't find an answer for this yellow-eyed monster that stared at him with anger and confusion.

"Keep this in mind, luv," Spike said slowly. "You leave, and I'll be the head of this fucking clan, and I'll do what I want with your precious humans then. You think on that before you get your oversized head lodged up your arse again, got it?" Spike didn't even wait for an answer; he turned and went sailing toward the stairs, anger radiating from every cell. Angel stared at the motes of dust floating in the weak sunbeam and for a second, he wondered if that would be such a bad thing.

Angel watched the sunspot on the floor slowly climb up the wall and vanish as the sun set. Hours passed and the demon in Angel's chest stirred, hungry for healing blood and for violence. But what eventually moved Angel was the knowledge that Xander was going to be home from school soon. He didn't want Xander seeing his damaged hand, and that meant that he had to feed the beast and put on his human mask before he braced himself for a very uncomfortable conversation with Blair and Xander. But no matter what Blair said, and no matter how Xander looked at him, Angel knew what he had to do: he had to keep Xander safe.


	14. 14

Xander took a deep drink of root beer and listened to Blair's story of falling on his face while running from head hunters in some weird place with a tribe that lived in trees. Demons and Hellmouthy stuff were totally believable, but Xander was only about sixty percent sure that he believed Blair with the whole story about a tribe that thought he was an evil spirit... well, until he tripped, fell in the mud, and convinced them he was way too clumsy to be some big bad.

"Oh man, that was wild," Blair finished, his hands finally settling down on his knees. Faith was sitting next to him on the couch, her feet propped in his lap, and Spike kept slipping his hand over to touch Cordelia, first running a finger down her leg and then capturing her hand for a quick kiss. The fact was that Xander missed touching, but until he could get his body and his brain on the same page sexually, he was so not going there. He couldn't even hardly look at Spike or Angel without his cock getting involved. So instead, he focused on Faith. His cock seemed to have a 'been there-don't want to go there again' attitude toward her.

"I think I'll stick with demons because natives are sounding a little too wild for me," Xander said.

"Bloody hell, as clumsy as you are, you'd be safe as houses, pet."

Xander glared at Spike. Maybe at one point that insult would have been actually insulting, but now it was just annoying. Cordelia backhanded Spike for him, and from the sound of flesh against flesh, she'd backhanded him a good one, but that just made Spike wiggle his eyebrows and smirk.

Xander smiled at their antics. This place, this hotel and this room and this group, finally felt like home. At one point, this room had been a meeting room, but a set of couches and some furniture recovered from a storage attic, and it had become a classy 1920's living room. Even Cordelia approved of the décor and had very firmly banned anything slimy from using it. Yep, Xander was feeling good--until he caught a glimpse of Angel's expression. Angel was sitting in the only chair, his one hand obsessively rubbing the other so that Xander had to wonder if he'd done something stupid again, like stick his hand in a bucket of turpentine to retrieve one of Xander's tools. Vampire skin liked turpentine about as much as human skin, but considering that the whole hotel was done in oil-based paint, Xander was starting to become friends with the noxious crap... at least when he didn't drop his tools into it.

"Oh my god, do you ever think about anything other than sex?" Cordelia demanded loudly.

"Can't help it, luv. I bloody well like sex with you."

"Keep it up and you won't be getting any," she warned calmly, but Xander somehow didn't think she would follow through on that. If he had to guess which one of them--Spike or Cordelia--was more sappy in love, he'd be hard pressed to pick one.

"Man, that is as good of an opening as I'm going to get." Blair shifted and leaned forward, toward Xander. "So, you're thinking of trying out the gay side of the fence, huh?"

Xander could feel the blood rush to his face, and Angel shifted unhappily. Yep, anything that made Xander unhappy tended to make Angel really, really unhappy. For a demon, he was very mother hennish. With a sigh, Xander just tried to ignore Angel's weirdness because he was fairly sure Angel would never be okay with Xander's new gayness, and Xander was having not-warm-and-fuzzy feelings toward Father Peter on that front.

Xander tried to focus on Blair and not all the pieces of unhappy he had rattling around in his own brain right now. "I'm thinking about it in a 'gee, I might have been thinking about it all along' kind of way. Just call me Alexander Denial Harris, and that's actually a better name than the one my parents saddled me with."

Blair laughed. "Oh man, I hear you. I totally hear you."

"Hear me in a..."

"In a been there, done that way."

Xander looked at Blair in shock. "No way, not you, too. I mean, if ten percent of the population is gay, the rest of LA has to be straight as an arrow because everyone I know is riding the gay bus. Seriously, I'm starting to think we all drank some pink water or something."

"Speak for yourself. Some of us prefer to keep our sexuality a little more conventional." Cordelia gave him an arched-eyebrow look, but she was also smiling and running the toe of her shoe up and down Spike's leg.

"Oi, you weren't conventional with--" Spike didn't get any farther before Cordelia hit him again, and this time it was pretty clear she wasn't trying for playful. The footsie even stopped.

While Xander was smart enough to stay out of that crossfire, Blair laughed. At least, he laughed until Cordelia turned one seriously evil glare in his direction. That made him shut right up.

"But to answer your question," Blair quickly said as he turned away from Cordelia, "I look at guys and think, 'not bad,' but then I think about what gay sex includes, and the fear factor so totally overwhelms any prurient thoughts. I mean, it's hard to stay excited when you're pretty much scared shitless." Blair gave a grin and a shrug.

Xander found himself almost feeling sorry for Blair because the thought of being afraid of sex was not of the good. Maybe he might have had a fearful thought or two cross his mind when it came to girl sex, but he hadn't really had time for any full-blown issues. When Faith had decided they should have sex, Xander had been too startled to be afraid, and after two and a half rounds of Faith-sex, Xander wasn't sure there was much to be scared of anymore. Faith was violent and loud and strong enough to leave deep bruises along his hips and shoulders. Sex with a guy just couldn't get any weirder or more painful than that. He'd woken up the next morning with black bruises and sore muscles. It'd been three weeks before the green bruising had finally faded from his skin. Xander shied away from that memory. That was the old Faith, and it wasn't fair to keep that memory fresh and polished when the new Faith wasn't the same person anymore.

"So you're more straight with a little gay frosting?" Xander summarized. That made Blair blink in surprise.

"Okay, that's one way of looking at it. I was going to suggest I was a one or a two on the Kinsey Scale for sexual orientation, but I think that's pretty much the same thing. You know, very few people are all heterosexual or all homosexual. Most people fall somewhere in the middle, like me. I am so into girls, but with the right conditions, I might go for a guy. And I would call Spike a true three on the scale."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Spike asked, his voice carrying a bit of a warning in the tone.

Blair rolled his eyes; clearly Spike's growl had lost most of its ability to intimidate. "You're bisexual. You're attracted to the person, not the body, so you don't care what the package looks like as long as you're attracted to the person in it."

Spike snorted. "That seems like the normal way of doing things, mate. You lot get yourselves all twisted up about gender. Soddin' idiotic if you ask me." Spike might have kept going, but he looked over, and snapped his mouth shut. Of course, if Cordelia glared at Xander like that, Xander would have done more than just shut up. He would have gone on to cover his genitals with his hands and then run for the next county.

Blair coughed, the sound only half-covering his laugh.

"I'm with Spike," Faith said. "All this shit about gender is just that... shit. Life is too fucking short to not do what feels good. Tits or a cock—it's all about feeling good."

Blair looked over at her with a frown.

"Chill," she told him. "It's also about not letting your fear or your anger rule your hormones, and I'm not forgetting that." Faith gave Blair an almost fond look, but Xander was a little more interested in Angel. His yellowed gaze was traveling from one person to another. Oh yeah, Angel was on the verge of a total freak-out, and usually Xander would have been the one to head off the freaking, but this was his life and his sexuality, and if he had to fight Angel and the whole Catholic church for his right to be as screwy as he wanted, he would.

"Yeah, well some of us are on a deadline. I have seven months left to find happily ever after, or a demon is going to give me some fantasy lover, and considering that she thinks me getting taken over by the Borg qualifies for 'happily ever after,' I'm voting 'no' on that plan."

"Good idea," Blair said with a grimace.

Faith swung her legs around and sat up, leaning her elbows on her knees as she studied Xander. "So, are you sure you're interested in some cock? I mean, if Sandman is right, there's being gay and then there's being really gay. Are you going to be happy getting cock for the rest of your life?"

"And way to go with the brutally honest and uncomfortable." Xander crossed his arms and thought about that. "I honestly don't know. I mean, I've had exactly one sexual partner, which puts me slightly on the side of the totally inexperienced. So, I don't know if I do know what I want, but when I look at guys..." Xander grimaced, "there is a certain wanting there. And if I'm going to be totally honest, Anyanka knew that because she was offering up a couple of guys in those fantasies." Xander had spent all of high school denying that, so saying it out loud was making him feel like there was more than one hypocrite in the room.

"Oh man... now that is one lady that could do some incredible things with guided visualization and therapy... if she wasn't evil, that is. But the idea that she could pull images out of the subconscious? Oh man, that is wild. Part of me really wants to meet her, you know?" Blair had that bright-eyed look, like when Angel had shown him their newly acquired books. Only Xander didn't really get the whole reason for being enthusiastic because he really would like to avoid ever meeting Anyanka again.

"I would rather find a way to defeat her." Angel had his stubborn voice on. With his yellow eyes and his stiff posture, that added up to one seriously freaking vampire.

"Who was in your fantasy?" Blair asked, totally ignoring Angel. "I mean, for me, it was John Savage in The Deer Hunter. Oh man, my mother hated that I loved that movie, but I couldn't get enough of it. She kept burning sage to try and counteract my testosterone poisoning, but I did not care. I mean, he was loyal and stoic and so very hot."

"For me it was Star Trek Voyager's Chakotay," Xander admitted, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. He waited for Cordelia to say something catty about nerds and science fiction, but there was a real lack of cat in her tonight. She was quiet, and it was Blair who eventually broke the silence.

"Oh yeah, tall, dark, and tattooed. I hear you. I totally hear you."

Xander risked a glance up, but no one was looking at him like he was a loser for having a sci-fi crush other than Seven of Nine. Blair, however, was watching him carefully. "So, is this like me, is this a sort of passing recognition that Chokotay is seriously hot or are you really going to go there?"

Not having an answer for that, Xander just ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back on the couch he was sitting on alone. He had just thought gay was gay, and now Blair was making it way more complicated with scales and numbers and degrees of gayness. This was now feeling weirdly like a math test, and Xander did not have a good track record with anything that included the words 'math' or 'test' much less both in the same sentence. And now that Blair had brought it up, the idea of gay sex was hitting on the freaky, scary scale. It wasn't up there with mutating mayors and graduation, but it was registering.

Faith stretched her legs out in front of her. "Seems like someone needs to show Xand the ropes before he can make a decision like this. I mean, if he doesn't like it, but that wish demon has done something permanent before he figures out that he's more of a cock window shopper... that would not be good. He needs to know about this shit now when he still has time to do something about it."

"I totally agree. Totally." Blair was nodding.

Xander could feel his face turn hot with a blush, but it wasn't like anyone was saying anything that wasn't true. Yeah, in a perfect world, he'd be doing the whole falling in love thing, and maybe if he had time to fall in love with someone who didn't have his hypocritical Catholic head up his hypocritical Catholic butt, the gender thing wouldn't matter, but they were five months into Anyanka's year, and Xander wasn't even dating. He had some practical deadlines to meet, and that was not leaving time for the long angst-filled therapy and drama that normally went with gender crises.

"This is not the sort of conversation for a classy lady," Cordelia said, standing up. "So, I'll leave you boys and Faith to have it. Some of us have too much style to butt into other people's choice of bed partners." And with that, she was gone without even a glance in Xander's direction.

"What a bitch," Faith said softly. Then she looked over to Spike. "You two must be in heaven."

Spike offered her a two-fingered salute.

"Boy whore."

"And worth every cent," Spike agreed cheerfully. "Right then, so we need ta find the boy a tutor. Peaches, you up for it?" Spike asked casually enough, but Xander could see the way Spike's body tensed. Oh yeah, Spike was ready to run for the hills, and actually Xander was too. This conversation was too weird, even for their normally weird conversations.

"And hey, how about letting Xander find his own tutor," Xander suggested brightly before Angel could come back and say something really, really embarrassing. Xander was having a hard enough time keeping Little Xander under control now, but thinking about Angel and tutoring was not helping issues. And Xander had to admit that Faith and Doyle just might have been right about him liking Angel, although Xander still wasn't sold on the idea that Angel liked him.

"Would this tutor be called procrastination?" Blair asked, but he kept talking before Xander could get all defensive and distracting and deflect them all from the fact that procrastination was sounding pretty good. "I mean, normally, I am all about people making their own choices, and asexuality is a valid lifestyle choice. There are these monks I know who... and that is totally off topic, but my point is that I would usually say you had a right to procrastinate. Man, I was one seriously late starter myself." Blair popped up and started pacing. "But the fact is that in seven months, you are hitting one serious deadline, and there is no one I've talked to who knows any way to distract Anyanka from her wish. My whole demonic half of the family is all for just staying out of her way. She has a reputation. I mean, a thousand years, and she hasn't been tricked, bribed or forced out of even one wish. A thousand years. Man, that is one seriously determined woman, so I am not going to assume we can beat her."

"So you think we should just throw Xander to the wolves?" Angel growled the words, and when he stood his arms were bent, his fists curled. Blair must have seen the same signs that Xander did because he fell back a couple of steps. Xander stood up, not sure what he could do if Angel was really about to go ballistic, but if there was a fight, Xander was going to make sure he was in the middle.

"Whoa, hey, no wolves, werewolves or tossing involved," Blair hurried to say, holding his hands up. Spike's glare might not have intimidated him, but Angel's glower was clearly getting the job done. Xander moved to stand between the two of them.

"It's not like he's making some wild and wacky suggestion," Xander pointed out. "He's just saying that maybe I'd be a little more sure about where my number on that scale fell if I actually had someone show me around some curves." Xander flinched as Faith's phrase accidentally came out of his mouth.

Angel's anger fell away and his arms hung limply at his sides. "You want to have sex with someone?"

"Well... kinda. I want to have sex more than I want to talk about wanting to have sex. Talking about sex is not really all that much fun." Xander backed up and eyed the door. Running was sounding better and better.

Spike stood, and now Faith was the only one still sitting--she sprawled over a couch, watching them all curiously. "Oi, I'm not letting him go outside the family and get some human disease."

"And as much as I don't want to talk about sex, I really, really don't want to talk about sex diseases," Xander quickly cut Spike off.

Faith made a disgusted noise. "If getting the disease is anything near as bad as having a pushy little shit show you pictures of the disease while lecturing about safe sex, trust me—it's better to talk about it than get it. Face it, you don't even have demonic blood to give you a little boost and make it harder for the bugs to take hold. You really do not want your dick looking like some of those scabby things Sandman went waving in my face."

Angel turned around and looked at Faith. "He waved someone's genitals in your face?" he demanded. Oh yeah, Angel was getting cranky enough to be turning off the brain. Even Xander knew Blair hadn't been using actual diseased boy parts.

"Hey!" Blair objected. Angel glanced over at him with yellow eyes, and Blair fell silent and retreated to the wall again. "Nevermind."

"Chill, Angel. He showed me pictures and gave me the birds and the bees talk," Faith said. She stood up and walked past Angel, dodging around him as he stood in the middle of the room with his feet planted like he was waiting for a fight. "Come on Blair, I'll buy you something green and disgusting like salad or tofu or some shit like that."

"Tofu isn't green," Blair objected, but Xander noticed that he was pretty dang happy to let himself get herded out of the room with the angry vampire. Now Xander just had to figure a way to get himself out of the room.

"I think I hear my bed calling me," Xander said, backing up toward the door. Yep, he was smart enough to know when to retreat and leave the vampires to beat the crap out each other and then have lots of gay sex until they felt better. And then tomorrow, Xander could poke Angel for being a big old hypocrite.

"Freeze," Spike said sharply, and the tone of his voice made Xander do just that. He stood a couple of feet from the door and a quick escape, but from the serious look on Spike's face, Xander was not going to be escaping soon. "Enough is bloody enough, Peaches. The boy needs ta know whether he's comfortable being a shirt-lifter, and we both know we're not letting him go lay down for some wanker off the street."

"He's not laying down for anyone," Angel growled.

"Hey!" Xander took a step forward and poked a finger at Angel. "You are not the boss of me... except when you are because on the slaying of monsters front, you're very bosslike, but this whole Anyanka disaster is my mess. And any gender identity issues I have are mine, and I happen to think that I should probably know whether I'm kinda gay or Friend of Dorothy gay before the deadline comes."

"What he said," Spike added with a smirk. "So, are you going to get the job done?" Spike demanded. Xander's idiotic brain figured out a few seconds too late that he was talking himself into a corner where he probably did not want to go. The only thing worse with having sex with some random stranger in a wish-inspired dream universe would be having Angel sleep with him out of some sense of obligation. Oh yeah, having a partner who was only there because he had to be there was not really on his list of sexual kinks to try.

"Oh no," Xander said as he turned on Spike. "No and a world of more no. Angel does not get to tell me I can't have sex, you do not get to tell me I have to. Seriously, the dysfunction in this one room is enough to make my ex-therapist turn blue." Xander glared at first one of them and then the other.

Angel was studying the top moldings along the top of the wall with great care, and Spike was staring at Angel. "It's you, me, or some wanker off the street, Peaches. So, you'd soddin' well better decide who you want seducing him."

Slowly, Angel tilted his head until he was looking at Spike with yellow eyes. "You're not going to do it," Angel said with a smirk. "You're under Cordelia's thumb, getting pushed around by a woman."

Spike snorted. "I bloody watched you dance on Darla strings, so that shite isn't going to work with me. But luv, I have to say, you're a mean git when you have your knickers in a twist. So, either pull that Catholic stick out of your ass and seduce the boy proper, or give me permission ta try and do it myself." Spike crossed his arms and stared at Angel with yellowed eyes. And this whole conversation was now hitting Xander's freak-meter big time.

"If you want to piss on your relationship with Cordelia, you go for it. I'm not going to be part of this," Angel said, his voice a growl. He turned and walked out of the room. For a second, Xander stood in the room with Spike and he tried to figure out something he could say to make all this a little less awkward.

"That went well." Xander gave Spike a weak smile.

Spike rolled his eyes. "No one spilled any blood. It actually went better than I figured it would." He gave a shrug. "He'll be out beating the shite out of something or threatening Sandburg for a while, so let's go have a little talk," Spike suggested. He caught Xander by the arm and pulled him out into the lobby and toward the stairs.

"Um, Spike, where are we going?" Xander asked. His stomach tightened, and he couldn't even identify the emotion he was feeling.

"Your room, pet."

Yep, that was fear. Xander just wasn't sure what he was afraid of—Spike, Spike sex, or Cordelia.


	15. 15

"Okay, Spike, no offense, but this is just a little stupid," Xander pointed out as Spike escorted him into his room.

"What is?" Spike asked. He let go of Xander's arm, but then he took a chair and flipped it around so that he could sit straddling it right in front of the door. Unless Xander wanted to lock himself in his bathroom, he definitely couldn't run away from this conversation.

"You know you aren't going to screw up your relationship with Cordelia, so if you're trying to make Angel jealous, it isn't going to work." Xander pushed a pile of clean underwear off the end of his bed so he could sit down.

"Pet." Spike stopped. His fingers twitched, and Xander figured the vamp probably wanted to light a cigarette pretty bad. Talking was not normally Spike's thing. "Do you or do you not want to get the sod in your bed?"

Xander blinked. He had absolutely no answer for that because he didn't even know if he wanted to get a guy in his bed at all, which had been the point of the conversation downstairs. But even if he wanted Angel, there was the whole lack of wanting on Angel's side to worry about. "I don't know," he finally settled on.

Spike snorted. "Pet, you leak lust every time Angel is in the same bloody room."

"Okay, the sniffing? Slightly gross," Xander complained.

Spike laughed. "After the way you threw a wobbly the first time I brought up Angel bedding you, I have a bloody right to be amused."

Xander had to smile as he remembered sixteen year old him. Spike had caught him on the street not long after Principal Snyder had made a few comments about Ampata being a boy on the paperwork and after Buffy had accidentally emasculated him by rescuing him from a bully. "You scared the pee out of me, and I was really, really in denial," Xander admitted. He studied Spike for a second, and he realized Spike had changed since that day. The skull rings had vanished and the bleach job wasn't quite as bleached and the punk eyeliner had totally vanished. Spike was still Spike, but he was a slightly different Spike.

"You were a treat, pet. You smelled of terror, but there you were still giving me mouth. I wasn't quite sure what to think of you." Spike's mouth twisted into a smile. "I figured Angel was either onto some brilliant plan or he had finally gone 'round the twist."

"He's 'round the twist," Xander said softly. His chest was tight in a way it hadn't been since he'd been sitting in that classroom facing Cordelia and trying to figure out how to tell her that he'd gone and cheated on her.

Spike sighed. "Pet, Angel smells of lust around you, but he comes from a time when things were just different."

"Indoor plumbing, deodorant, television—lots of different."

"Do you remember how I told you that my mum had an uncle take me to visit a woman ta teach me the ropes?" Spike asked.

That had been a very strange conversation, but Xander definitely remembered it. "Your mom thought you might be gay."

"My mum, she was a grand lady, and she couldn't let that horse-faced shrew I was supposed to marry deal with it if I couldn't function with a woman. Bloody hell, my mum couldn't deal with it either—she had to bring in my uncle. See, upstanding women, like my mum and my fiancée, didn't talk about sex. But the women my uncle introduced me to, they were all about the sex, luv." Spike wiggled his eyebrows. But then a more serious expression settled over his features. "That's where I fucked up with Faith. A hundred years ago, people assumed that women were all pure and perfect, or they dismissed them as whores." Spike shook his head. "Faith acted like a type of woman I thought I knew. Isn't the first time I've proven myself a fool over a woman." Spike's expression was suddenly unhappy.

"Okay, no offense, Spike, but what the hell are you talking about?" Xander already had enough issues to work on, and he really didn't need Spike adding more weird to the already large weird pile in his brain.

"I'm trying to explain something, prat," Spike said with an exasperated sigh. "I've bloody figured out a few things. Faith acts like one of those whores my uncle took me to. Cordy acts like those upstanding women I knew when I was alive—the ones who pretended to not know which end they'd look at to find a cock. Only, it's all a bloody lie. I reckon the woman who taught me how to bed her went home and talked to her kiddies and sang to them and made them biscuits. It's just that Angel still believes the lie."

"And again, I'm saying, 'huh?'" Xander just really wanted this very odd conversation over.

Spike narrowed his eyes and gave Xander a nasty glare. "You're not stupid, so stop playing like you don't see what bug crawled up his ass and died."

"I'm not playing with the stupid here, I'm fully employed in stupidity as far as Angel is concerned." Xander might have added a few choice words for Father Peter, too, but with Spike, there was a danger that he would do something Spikish to the priest, and Xander actually liked the man. He really hated the guy's theory on gays, but he liked the man.

"As far as Angel's concerned, you're the fucking Madonna, pet. You're a virgin, and he's going ta see you as a pure being who shouldn't be sullied with talk of sex."

"Hey, not virginish here."

"You're a bloody babe in the woods," Spike disagreed. "You've never had anything bigger than a finger up your arse, and that's a virgin. And the problem is that as long as you're a virgin, Angel's going to treat you like the Virgin Mary."

"Wait." Xander leaned forward. "Okay, you're telling me to have sex with a guy so Angel will see me more like a whore? Okay, I’m not really behind that plan."

Spike stood up moved to right in front of Xander before he crouched down in front of him, a serious expression on his face. "Angel could never see you as a whore, pet, but until you have sex with a man, he's never going to see you as a sexual creature. It's just his nature."

"His nature sucks."

"He gets sucked more often than he does the sucking," Spike answered quickly with a smirk. Spike dropped the sexy look the minute he realized Xander wasn't responding. He reached out and rested his hands against Xander's knees.

"He bloody wants you so bad it's ripping him apart. His demon wants to bed you, and as long as you had your head up your ass, he could push that aside. But now, you're leaking lust all over the hotel, and his demon is clawing at him, but that soddin' soul is stuck on the fact that you're a virgin and touching you would mean destroying that."

"Sex is not destroying," Xander protested softly as he studied the pattern on the carpet, but oddly, this was making an odd kind of Angel-sense. Angel logic was twisted and weird and old-fashioned, and Xander considered, and not for the first time, that Angel needed therapy way more than Xander ever had.

"No, it's not, pet." Spike leaned in. Because he was crouching down, his head was lower than Xander's, so when Spike did that, he looked up into Xander's face. "I meant what I said about not letting you go outside the family. So, the question is whether you're willing to let me show you how this is done."

Xander's gaze flew up to Spike's face. "But... .Cordelia! I already have Anyanka to worry about and I so do not need Cordelia trying to eviscerate me right now. And with Faith.... I stabbed Cordelia in the back once and I.... This is such a bad idea." Xander tried to push Spike aside, but Spike just held Xander by the legs, keeping him on the bed without any effort.

"She's a bloody terror, isn't she?" Spike asked with undisguised glee.

"That's not a good thing. She's going to cut off your little guys for even offering!"

"Bloody hell, you aren't much better than Angel yourself." Spike's fingers tightened on Xander's knees, and Xander tried very hard to ignore how good that felt. "I told you, pet, I figured out that human women are a little more complicated with their attitudes about sex. Cordelia may act like all this is beneath her, but in private, she's not exactly shy. She thinks you need to make a point or Angel's never going to get his oversized head out of his arse."

Xander's brain stuttered to a full stop. "But... aren't you... Spike?"

"She already gave me permission, pet. She's no more sexually innocent than Faith is a whore. And her exact words were that I should get your head screwed on straight because if we wait for Angel, we're all going to die of old age. She then added that if I went and fell in love with you she was going to rip my bollocks off and hang 'em from a nail in our room."

That actually sounded strangely Cordeliaish. "Okay, this is still way too weird. I really don't think..." Xander's voice faded out, and he tried again to stand up. Spike's hands didn't move, and Xander had exactly zero chance of physically pushing past a Spike who didn't want to be pushed past. That was one of the annoying things about being the normal one of the group—everyone else could push him around.

"Pet, just stop and listen. I'm not saying we do anything to hurt Angel or Cordelia, you know I wouldn't do that, right?" Spike stared at him with blue eyes. Xander nodded. "We just need to get Angel's soul past all those loose screws in his head."

"What if you can't?" Xander blurted the question before his brain could edit it.

Spike frowned. "I'll beat the bugger senseless and pour holy water in the wounds."

Xander jerked.

"Oi, I'm just talking. He bloody annoys the unlife out of me some days, but I wouldn't do anything to actually hurt the git. He needs this, Xander; he's ripping himself in two he wants you so bad. We just have to tip those scales a little bit." Spike reached out and placed his fingers under Xander's chin. "Trust me?"

Xander swallowed and nodded. He did trust Spike, which was weird because of the whole lack of a soul issue. Spike smiled. "I just want you to know how bloody good it can feel. Spike traced the line of Xander's jaw back to his neck and then down to a shoulder, his fingers leaving a tingling trail behind. Spike smiled again, one of those sly smiles where his tongue pushed out his lower lip.

"This won't hurt you and Cordy?" Xander asked. Yeah, he knew Spike still had sex with Angel, but that was a vampire thing, and he wasn't a vampire.

"Not unless you grow balls enough ta threaten my unlife and make me believe it, pet. And even then, you'd have to take her on if ya really wanted to challenge where I put my primary loyalty."

"Okay, I will never have balls big enough to do that," Xander admitted.

"Most men don't. That's the point, pet." And with that, Spike seemed to consider the subject closed. He shifted so that his knees were to either side of Xander, trapping him between, and then he reached up and started unfastening the buttons.

"Shouldn't we be doing dinner or flowers or a movie or something?" Xander blurted. Spike ignored him. When Xander's shirt fell open, Spike ran one finger over the newly-exposed skin. Even without body heat, Spike's touch left Xander's skin hot and tingling. Spike smiled as he laid his palms against Xander's chest and then stroked up to his shoulders, pushing the shirt off as he went.

Xander fisted the bedspread, not sure what he was supposed to be doing and pretty sure that his brain was turning to mush. Spike stood and leaned in. He placed a kiss on the juncture between Xander's neck and shoulder, and a shiver traveled through Xander's whole body. "Bloody beautiful," Spike whispered, and then he placed another kiss higher on Xander's neck.

Xander's hands flew up and grabbed Spike's arms. Xander felt like he didn't have control over any part of his body because his back was arching and his cock was hard, and he was totally slipping into a quiet place where all that mattered was the growing lust. Oh god, he wanted this. He'd wanted this for a long time, and a little part of him wanted Angel more, but this was Spike. This was the vamp who had protected him and taught him and helped him pull practical jokes on Angel. This was the vamp who had come running when Xander was afraid and alone with Angelus. This was the vamp whose fingers were making his body arch and his skin break out in goose pimples.

"Spike," Xander gasped, not sure that he was going to last any longer than he had the first round with Faith, and he had lasted an embarrassingly short time with Faith.

"Shh. It'll feel better with the edge off," Spike soothed him. Strong fingers danced down over Xander's naked side and pulled at his jeans. When the fly came open, Xander's hard erection pressed up through his underwear. Xander gasped when Spike leaned down and sucked at the head of Xander's cock right through the fabric. With a scream, Xander came. His come was warm against his skin and soaked into his underwear so there was a dark spot.

"You're bloody gorgeous, pet. Even when I was trying to figure out what game Angel had going, before I understood what he was doing, even then I thought you were gorgeous," Spike said, and Xander floated on the post-orgasm haze and the compliments and the soft feeling of Spike's hands tracing figures in his skin. If his hand had performance anxiety over Faith, it was going to have performance terror after Spike. His hand was never again going to be willing to perform out of fear of getting compared to Spike. Xander couldn't believe how good he felt.

"Right then, let's move you up, pet," Spike said, his voice drifting into Xander's happy place. Strong hands lifted him at his waist, and Xander crab walked up onto the bed until he was in the middle. Spike settled next to him, propped up on one elbow and watching with amused blue eyes. Xander had just enough energy left to reach up and stroke Spike's arm, feeling the soft skin and the strong muscles. He was wearing his short-sleeved red silk shirt, and Xander let his hand wander up to Spike's shoulder. The silk was cool under his fingers, and Spike tensed his muscle so that it moved interestingly under Xander's fingertips.

"Wait, you didn't..." Xander looked down, and Spike's crotch was bulging.

"Hurts like hell, pet. I don't mind that at all," Spike said. Xander tried to reach for Spike's jeans, to... okay, Xander didn't know what he was going to do, but it seemed rude to leave Spike hard. However, Spike captured his hand. Bringing the hand up to his lips, Spike kissed Xander's knuckles. "It's fine. You might not like waiting, but for me, a little pain just puts the edge on all the pleasure." He kissed Xander's knuckles again before releasing the hand.

For a second, Xander wasn't sure what to do. A little part of him wanted to undo Spike's jeans and give him a good orgasm, and a little part was afraid he wasn't going to be good enough to get Spike to come, and a big huge piece of him just wanted to sink back into the soft place where he didn't care about anything.

Xander's hand was near Spike's chest, so he finally reached over and pulled a button loose on Spike's shirt. Beneath, his pale chest was muscled and Xander could see the edge of a nipple. Xander pulled another button loose and then another. The silk fell open, and Xander studied the beautiful form laid out beside him. A faint wisp of light brown hair gathered just above the waist of his jeans, and his stomach was defined by long muscles that lay under the pale skin.

Even all fuzzy from his earlier orgasm, Xander could feel a little gathering heat of interest. Spike had the sort of well-muscled body that Xander sometimes looked at a little too long, even back in his glory days of denial.

"You're about as randy as a vampire," Spike said with some amusement, but Xander focused more on the way Spike's hands had returned to his body, skimming over Xander's chest and brushing the skin just above the open waistband of Xander's jeans. His stomach muscle contracted and he hissed in a breath. Spike chuckled. "Ya filled out nice, pet. As soon as you have some time away from school and fixing up this old heap of bricks, I need to teach you a few new tricks with the sword... things ya couldn't have done without a little more muscle."

Talking about swords really should not be big with the sexy, and yet it clearly was because Xander's cock was making a valiant effort to rise for the occasion. It was failing, but it was definitely trying. Spike chuckled before he worked his fingers under the waistband of Xander's jeans.

"This is still weird," Xander whispered, but he brought his own hand up to trace the line of Spike's collarbone. The shirt got in his way, so he pushed it back a little and then a little more and then just enough to explore the round of Spike's shoulder, and then it fell off Spike and puddled onto the mattress.

"No it's not. It's about giving and finding pleasure, pet. It's about caring for someone else and figuring out where your needs meet." Spike muttered the words into the curve of Xander's neck, and Xander arched his back and tilted his head to give Spike more room to work. Spike rewarded him by sucking gently on the tender skin. Xander gasped.

While still teasing his neck, Spike pushed on Xander's jeans. Xander lifted his butt and tried to help push his jeans down only to accidentally hit Spike in the crotch. Spike hissed and lifted his head, his eyes yellow.

"Sorry. Oh god, I'm really sorry," Xander hurried to say, feeling like the biggest dork in the world.

"Oi, don't be. Bloody hell, do that again, and I'm going to come in my jean." Spike panted the words, and he barely finished them before he dropped down onto Xander, holding him down and kissing him. Spike's tongue and lips tormented Xander, teasing and exploring and nipping until Xander was half hard and squirming and definitely out of breath. He just couldn't suck in enough air through his nose, and Spike kept kissing and kissing him.

Finally Spike pulled back, and Xander lay there breathless as Spike looked down at him. Spike brought a thumb up and traced the shape of Xander's lower lip. "I do love ya, pet."

Kneeling up while still straddling Xander's body, Spike pulled his own jeans open. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't wearing underwear and his cock jutted out. The ridge around the head that made Xander think of an arrow when he looked at his own cock was softer, less pronounced, and the end almost looked like it had two openings, like the head of his cock was trying to escape his cock.

"Go on then. You'll never know if you like it unless you touch it, pet." Spike sounded so calm, but his cock was turning a darker bluish purple color.

"Um... ow."

"Vampire, pet. I like a little pain with the pleasure."

Xander still hesitated. He'd known frustration more than once during his teen years, and he'd known the pain of getting hard and then having your mother walk in and want to lecture you on dirty clothes and being totally unable to do anything about being hard. But he'd never been that hard.

Spike reached down and wrapped his fingers around his erection, groaning as he slowly stroked himself. Xander was almost sure that was a happy face Spike was making, although he wasn't totally sure. It looked a little like a pain face. Reaching out, he let his own hand rest on Spike's hip, watching for some sort of reaction. Spike arched his back and threw his head back. Maybe it was the fact that Spike wasn't looking, but that gave Xander a little more courage; he reached out and touched the end of Spike's cock. Spike hissed, but he kept his slow rhythm going. He was rocking back and forth against Xander's thighs, and Xander's own cock was starting to push up against his underwear.

The slit of Spike's cock was wet, and Xander ran his finger through the moisture before tracing the unfamiliar edge of the foreskin. Spike let go of himself, but he kept rocking, and Xander finally did what he'd been thinking about for a really long time. He held someone else's cock. Wrapping his fingers around the shaft, just under the head, just where Xander liked to hold when he was indulging in a little sock puppet of love fantasy, Xander watched Spike's cock darken. Spike arched his back even more so that the muscles around his neck stood out.

"Fuck, yeah, pet. Bloody hell. Can't let you explore too much or we aren't going to get around to your deflowering." However, Spike kept rocking back and forth, his hands braced on his knees.

Xander tightened his hold, and Spike stopped. "Did I..."

"I'm about to bloody come." Spike reached down and put his hands on Xander's wrists. "Give me a sec, yeah?"

Xander let go, strangely proud of the fact that he had forced Spike to stop. Clearly he had been doing something right. And clearly Xander was not really on the fence with the gayness as much as he was over the fence and ready for a Friend of Dorothy sticker.

"We need to get this moving before you're all the way back in the game," Spike commented, running his finger over Xander's damp and sticky underwear.

"We could wait until I'm all not thinking and gasping and not able to say stupid stuff," Xander suggested.

Spike smiled. "Pet, you're one of the wisest people I know. Sometimes you say things a little oddly, but then I spent a hundred years around Dru, so I'm pretty capable of sussin' out the truth, even when you get mired in your own words. I just don't want you tight when we start the next part. It's better if you're a little more relaxed."

Xander didn't answer because he'd just figured out what the next part involved. His cock softened.

"It'll feel good. If ya liked what Faith did with her finger, you'll like this," Spike promised. Part of Xander trusted Spike. The other part looked at how big Spike was and wanted to measure the size of Spike's cock and the size of his own hole because he suspected that the one wasn't going to fit in the other. "It's okay, pet. Just roll over, and I'll make you forget your own name," Spike promised. He shifted so he wasn't pinning Xander down, and then he lifted Xander's hips, just about flipping him over without any help at all from Xander. In fact, Xander's legs got tangled in his jeans, and he managed to kick one of his legs with his opposite foot.

"Ow," Xander said softly. Spike was at the end of the bed, pulling Xander's shoes off, and he found the spot Xander had kicked and kissed it.

"That'll make it all better, luv," he promised. His voice was lilting and the accent had faded to something closer to Masterpiece Theater than punk rock. When Spike pulled his jeans off, Xander shivered and fisted the sheets, not sure what he was supposed to do. But rather than pull off Xander's underwear, Spike settled in next to him on the bed. Spike threw one of his legs over the back of Xander's thighs, and he lay there, watching Xander.

For long minutes, Spike just watched him with blue eyes. Spike's fingers stroked the back of his neck, and every once in a while, he'd reach up and brush a curl away from Xander's eyes.

"Um, are we doing this?" Xander asked, wondering if Spike had changed his mind.

"Yeah, pet, we are. I'm just waiting for you to stop feeling so tense. I won't hurt you. Not only would Angel throw a wobbly that made your past fits look like nothing, but I don't think you'd enjoy the pain. Since the goal here is to show you how good it is; I'm just waiting for you to calm down a little."

Then Spike kissed the back of his shoulder before trailing a line of kissing down arm. With a wiggle of his eyebrows, a now-naked Spike straddled Xander's thighs and pushed his underwear down.

"Oh God." Xander buried his face in his arms and he could feel his skin prickle with heat everywhere Spike had touched him. Something cool and wet touched the spot right above where his cheeks met, and Xander gasped. Oh God, that was Spike tongue. Spike chuckled and then shifted, but Xander kept his eyes closed and his face pressed against his arms.

"Open up, pet," Spike said, tapping the inside of Xander's thighs. Xander opened a few inches, but strong hands took his ankles and opened him up obscenely wide. Xander felt his whole body blush.

"Such beautiful muscles, luv. You're a stunning man." Spike's hands traveled up the back of Spike's legs and over his butt. "Lift up here." Spike lifted Xander's hips, and Xander pulled his legs under him to hold himself up. Spike did more shifting and then patted Xander on the butt. "Right then, all you have to do is relax pet." That advice might have been more helpful if Spike didn't take that moment to run a slick finger over the underside of Xander's balls. Xander arched his back and hissed as his cock definitely took an interest in that.

"I guess we need to get this started if we want you relaxed. You're not going to be relaxed for long." Spike sounded way too amused, and maybe Xander might be offended later, when he didn't need to come. But right now, he just wanted Spike to do something. Xander might not be getting hard fast, but he could feel the lust growing and he had to fight an urge to hump the pillow Spike had just shoved under his hips.

Xander opened his mouth to complain, and before he could, a slick finger slipped all the way into him. He gasped. Okay, that didn't hurt. It was surprising, but it didn't hurt. Xander pressed his forehead into his arms and tried to slow down his breathing. He could feel the knuckle of Spike's finger rub his entrance every time Spike thrust in or pulled out, and Xander squirmed. It was like having someone play with your nipples for too long, just until it felt weird instead of good. Then Spike pressed deep into him, and he found that same spot Faith and used. The pressure made his cock immediately harden. Xander let a quiet 'fuck' slip past his lips.

"Like that?" Spike asked, pressing harder.

Xander half rose onto his knees and squirmed. "Yes!" he agreed.

"Push back, pet," Spike advised him, but Xander wasn't paying any attention until something larger started pressing against his opening. Xander stilled. "Just lay back down and push back," Spike repeated.

Xander slowly lowered himself and focused on breathing as something larger pushed in. It burned, and Xander couldn’t figure out if it felt really good or if it hurt. It was like stretching his muscles after sparring with Angel, but the burn was connected directly to his cock, making him warm up in ways that post-exercise stretching never did. Xander panted, struggling to relax into the feeling.

Then Spike pressed that spot deep inside again, and Xander's body exploded with more feelings than he could handle at once. His whole body was hot and it was stretched like a rubber band about to snap. Xander grabbed at the bedding and the sheet popped off one corner.

"Just relax, pet," Spike whispered. He shifted and then he started sucking gently at the small of Xander's back. This was two fingers. Xander still wasn't sure what he thought about a cock, but he was very fond of two fingers. He grabbed the edge of the mattress and started squirming, the need for more slowly building until he couldn't be still anymore.

"Bloody hell, no doubt about which side you're on, pet," Spike laughed, and then he started slowly thrusting in and out. Xander's holes stretched around the knuckles and the intense heat burned him. The burn and the feeling of Spike's slick fingers sliding in and out and the knowledge that Spike was about to have sex with him... that Spike wanted to have sex with him... it finally just overwhelmed Xander's brain so that everything vanished except the need to come.

Xander whimpered, Trying to hump the pillows, he arched his back up, but Spike's fingers disappeared and both of Spike's hands pinned him firmly down. Xander moaned in protest and opened his legs farther. He was rewarded with something even wider pressing against him.

Xander's breath caught in his throat. This was so wide that Xander didn't think he could stretch. The burn was so much that he gasped.

"Shhhh. Just push back," Spike muttered in his ear, and Xander was really starting to hate that phrase. But then Spike started tasting the back of Xander's neck, scraping sharp teeth across the sensitive skin, and Xander groaned with need. He needed more burn. He needed more movement. He needed to come.

The pressure at his hole increased, and for a few seconds, it was painful. Xander whimpered, and Spike sucked at his earlobe. One of Spike's hands reached up to rest on the back of Xander's hand, pinning it to the bed just like Spike had the rest of Xander pinned. The pain didn't go away as much as the stretch and the burn grew so hot that the sting wasn't nearly as important as coming.

Xander felt Spike press up against his butt, and the pressure against his prostate added a whole new level to the fire and the pressure and the need. Xander was gasping for air now, his vision gray as he struggled to get up onto his knees. He needed to thrust into the bed, to come, to move, to do something, but Spike had him totally pinned. Spike's other hand caught Xander's one free arm and pinned it to the bed.

"Just let yourself adjust, pet. You're doing great. I'm all the way in, but if we move too fast, you could get hurt so just relax."

"Relax?" Xander's voice was about three octaves too high. He couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs. Xander's breath came faster and faster until Spike started tiny rocking motions. He couldn't have been moving more than an inch at a time, but Xander found himself breathing in time with the rocking. Thrust in. Gasp. Then he'd hold his breath until Spike started easing out again. Each thrust was longer, and now the pressure against his prostate came and went like ocean waves that carried Xander's brain cells away with the tide.

The thrusts came harder, and Xander struggled up to his knees, his whole body demanding movement. When Spike pulled back, Xander rocked away and then he drove himself back onto Spike's cock as Spike drove in. Their legs slapped together loudly, and Xander cried out as he started coming. The sting grew so great that Xander's second cry was more of pain, but then Spike slid out of him, and Xander felt Spike's come hit him in the small of his back and trickle down over one side of his waist.

Collapsing onto the bed, Xander's trembled. He was hot and cold and shaking, and he was happier and more sated than he'd ever been in his life. Spike moved around behind him, but Xander didn't have the strength to even turn his head to see what Spike was doing. If the world ended right now, Xander wouldn't even care, but he would die happy. And gay. He'd definitely die gay.

A sheet settled over his body, floating down from above, and Spike slipped into the bed next to him. Spike's blue eyes were watching him and long fingers stroked sweat-soaked hair away from Xander's eyes. "So, did that answer any questions?" Spike asked.

"Gay," Xander answered sleepily. "So totally gay. And willing to write letters of recommendation."

Spike laughed. "Bloody right I'm good. I've had a century to take natural talent and refine it into pure sex, haven't I?" Xander closed his eyes and let Spike pull him close so their legs tangled. Spike shifted around so that he lay on his back, and Xander shifted so that he was using Spike's arm and shoulder for a pillow.

"And jealous," Xander said softly. Spike's hands paused in their petting. After a brief second, Spike's hands went back to work stoking over Xander's back and down to his hip. Xander felt like a giant cat, and he just wanted to curl up in the warmth of Spike's sun and go to sleep.

"You'll get your vamp sorted, Xand. I've got faith in that," Spike said softly. Xander heard the words from that place of half-sleep where everything was fuzzy. He didn't have the strength to answer. Spike had worn him out.


	16. 16

Angel clenched his fists. He wanted to hurt someone... anyone would do, but Blair was near the top of the list of people he would prefer to hurt. Blair's and Faith's scent lingered on the air, and Angel stalked them. He would convince Blair to leave this topic alone or he would shove the man into a suitcase and ship him back to Cascade by boat.

Angel was so focused on following the scent through the maze of building and alleys and crowded streets filled with the hot scent of exhaust and the heavy stink of hot dogs and nachos that he didn't notice where he was headed. It was only once he stood outside the cathedral that he realized that Faith and Blair had headed straight to Father Peter.

The older priest who had been here for decades still handled most of the church services, but Father Peter watched the cathedral at night and ministered to the homeless and less human of LA. Clearly, Blair had run to the one place where Angel couldn't kill him, not that Angel had planned on any murder tonight. No, he had only planned some intimidation... a little shoving around and maybe a quick trip to the harbor.

As Angel walked around to the front, he spotted Faith straddling the stone banister, kicking her legs in time to some music on her earphones. She didn't stop when he walked up. Instead, she poked a thumb toward the main doors. "They're in the big room. And Angel?" She leaned forward. "Play nice. Your demon is showing." She jerked her head toward him, and Angel realized he was showing his demonic face to the world. He'd walked down the streets of LA with his demon features, and he had been too lost in his own anger to even notice. He frowned and forced his human face back to the front before heading up the stair.

"Do I need to babysit?" Faith asked without moving off the wide stone railing.

"No." Angel growled the word and gave her a look to make it perfectly clear that he expected her to stay out of it.

"Five by five with me," she said, holding her hands out to show she wasn't going to fight him. "But you'd better make sure you're just fighting with words because you versus Sandman is not exactly a fair fight.

Angel stopped and looked at Faith. "Do ye really think the fight will be fair if we use words? Are ye siding with him, then?"

"Whoa, I'm not taking sides at all because you both want to do the right thing. So you two go verbally rip into each other and I'll just wait here."

Angel narrowed his eyes. By asking him to keep the conflict verbal, she was asking him to lose it. Angel was a taciturn man by nature, and he had no hope of verbally warring with Blair. His demon railed at the challenge.

"Father Peter's waiting," Faith pointed out. Leaning back, she lay flat on the wide railing and propped on boot on the stair.

Her position left her unable to quickly defend herself, and Angel could feel his demon settle under that silent submission. And if Father Peter was in there, Angel would have support, unlike in his hotel where his entire clan seemed determined to fight him on this issue. Only Cordelia had refused to get involved in Spike's conspiracy to encourage Xander's homosexuality. Of all those who lived at the hotel, Angel never thought Cordelia would be his staunchest ally.

Forcing himself to unclench his fists, Angel pushed the doors of the cathedral opened and walked into the narthex. Most days, he stayed in this front entry, uncomfortable entering the main church.

When his grandmother had been alive, she'd secretly taken him to an underground Catholic church. Behind a curtain, he could hear a priest chanting in a mysterious language, and she'd explained that he couldn't go past the curtain until he'd been baptized. An old man with brown spots on his hands had taken young Liam by the hand and had pulled him down next to him on a bench and had talked to him about God and forgiveness and heaven. Grandmother had told him they had to keep the church a secret, but Liam had been so afraid that his parents would go to hell that he had cried to his mother. He'd begged her to come to the church so she wouldn't go to hell. Liam had never seen the church or his grandmother again.

But now, things were different. The narthex was only separated from the nave by two columns that stood on either side of the hall, and a statue that created an illusion of a front entry room without actually separating the spaces. Already he could see Blair sitting sideways in one of the pews, Father Peter sitting near him.

The light from the apse lit the curved ceiling painted with images of Christ and angels and lambs standing under Christ's hands. And this light spilled over so that Blair and Father Peter were backlit shadows. Blair's hands had been gesturing, but now he turned to face Angel over the back of the pew and his hands fell to his side.

"Hey, man. I guess Faith was right about you following. So, maybe we can talk about this."

Angel didn't answer, but he walked closer. He knew what his demon wanted, but he wouldn't desecrate the church with any sort of violence. However, he didn't stop until he was close enough to smell Blair's fear.

"Angel," Father Peter greeted him. The priest looked from Angel to Blair and back to Angel. "Perhaps we do need to talk."

"No, we don't. Homosexuality is a sin, and Blair should not be encouraging Xander to put his soul in danger." Angel spoke each word slowly and carefully as he tried to not let the demon slip out.

"Man, you are like a broken record. It's a sin, it's a sin, it's a sin, it's a sin." Blair spun his finger like a record going around and around. The darkness lifted as Angel's vision went demonic.

"Now, Angel," Father Peter stood up, "even when provoked, the good man finds patience. And Blair," Father Peter turned toward Blair, "the intelligent man does not provoke a good man who is trying so hard to find patience."

Blair snorted, and Angel gritted his teeth. Father Peter sighed. "Angel, perhaps we can talk this through and come up with some agreements."

"Like Blair leaving town?" Angel asked. That would be a discussion he could tolerate.

"If you can convince me it's better for Xander, I'm out of here," Blair promised. "You guys are the only family I have, and I would detach with love in a second if I thought I was hurting any of you. Totally. You'd never hear from me except for a Christmas-Hanukkah-Kwanza card once a year. Maybe not even that."

Angel frowned, suddenly not happy with that thought, either. Before Angel had come to know Blair during that long road trip, Blair had been barely surviving. He'd lived on couches and in a couple of shelters as he sacrificed living money to buy books. His own grandparents believed he was demonic spawn and had wanted Blair dead, so they certainly hadn't provided any support. And as much respect Angel had for Naomi's ability to emotionally raise a child, the woman was financially irresponsible. Spike understood financial matters better than she did, and from the speed at which they were liquidating the Sunnydale treasure they'd found, Spike understood very little. Without him, Blair would go back to that difficult life. Angel had bought a warehouse for him so Blair didn't have to ever worry about rent and utilities, and he didn't want to think of Blair going back to scrambling in order to pay for school and books and the trips that seemed a required part of his schooling.

"Let's all just talk." Father Peter reached out to rest a hand on Angel's arm, and Angel could feel a need to strike out and a need to seek some sort of comfort warring in him. "Let's go in the office."

"No way. I say we do it right here." Blair had a stubborn look on his face, and for a second Father Peter looked confused. However, Angel understood Blair's logic. Here, they were close enough that Faith would hear any fight, and he was hoping that Faith would defend him. Angel wasn't sure how he felt about that divided loyalty. Or rather, he knew he hated it, and he wasn't sure he felt about his own demonic instincts rising up.

With a sigh, Father Peter gave in. He gestured for Angel to move to the pew behind them, and then he sat next to Blair again. Angel perched on the edge of the pew's seat, close enough that he could grab Blair and drag him close if he needed to. Blair stunk of fear and sweat, but he didn't flinch away.

Blair swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing a couple of times. "Okay, first—homosexuality is perfectly normal. Male killer whales engage in frottage to determine which of the young males is strongest, and then the strongest ones go to mate with females. Many whales never mate with females. Their only sexual contact is during these male competitions. And if you've ever been on a farm, you know that you don't buy a stud pig or bull without making sure that he likes girls. A small percentage of them will only try to mount other males. And man, that generally does not make other males happy." Blair's hands were up and gesturing as his words came faster and faster. "Mallard ducks, penguins, great apes... they all have homosexual members and cows? Oh man, girl cows will mount each other all the frickin' time. Scientists call girl cows who have male behaviors freemartins, so no way is this some odd sexual deviance. It's normal."

Angel blinked at the assault. Cows were gay? He looked at Father Peter to explain this away, but Father Peter was nodding.

"Clearly, homosexuality does exist in God's creatures. However, there are many behaviors that are both natural and wrong. Some male fish who tend their nests use their own unhatched children as food so that they can tend the rest of the eggs without leaving. It is natural behavior, but it's clearly not something either one of us would accept in a human being."

"You've had this argument before," Blair said, but he sounded amused rather than annoyed. If Angel had had his argument so effectively decimated, he would have hated the man who had shown him to be such a fool.

"Several times," Father Peter agreed.

"So, I've proved it's natural, I think that means it's up to you to prove that something so widespread and normal can also be wrong." Blair leaned forward, clearly looking forward to the argument, and for not the first time, it occurred to Angel that he truly did not understand the man.

"I suppose I can skip the Leviticus argument?"

"Oh yeah," Blair agreed enthusiastically. He turned to Angel. "Leviticus comes right out and says that it's detestable when a man lays with another man. But the same book says that if you touch an unclean thing crawling on the ground, otherwise known as a bug, you're guilty of some great sin. Man, that hotel is crawling with spiders, so I think Xander would be pretty much doomed if you used Leviticus, and I'm not even getting into the part where Leviticus says that God hates disabled people."

"What?" Angel demanded.

"I don't think that's a fair interpretation," Father Peter interrupted.

"Oh man, yes, it is. Leviticus says that anyone who's blind or lame or defective can't come up to the altar because it would desecrate the temple. I can so look that one up for you."

Father Peter spluttered with indignation. "God doesn't hate the disabled. Christ walked among the..."

"Got it," Blair interrupted. "God loves the disabled and Leviticus is just a wacky, wacky book in the Bible. That's okay because most people pretty much ignore it. I'm assuming you're going to jump ahead to Corinthians?"

"I had been planning to. Do you want to start the discussion?" Father Peter's voice had more than a little frustration in it, but Blair just waved a hand, inviting Father Peter to start. Father Peter sighed again, and Angel was comforted by the fact that he wasn't the only one who had difficulties in dealing with Blair. Father Peter was equally exasperated with him. "The Apostle Paul clearly states that idolaters and adulterers and homosexual offenders will not inherit the kingdom of God. The act is a sin in the eyes of God."

"Gee, Angel, you have to kick Cordelia out of the hotel, and man, I'm not sure, but I think Faith has to go, too." Blair nodded with a sad frown on his face. Angel looked in confusion from Blair to Father Peter, but the priest looked just as confused by the odd turn in the conversation.

Blair smiled. "I mean, Paul said that women have to be silent and submissive. He actually said that woman was the only one deceived into eating the apple and the whole fall was her fault. Seriously, Adam had a choice. He chose to eat the damn apple, but Paul just puts it all on Eve. And then he says all women have to suffer because of that mistake. All women through all time lose their voice and have no right to speak their mind because of that. Nope, a woman's only redemption is through the pain of childbirth and suffering.

"Even today, the Catholic church won't let women become priests because they believe a guy who never even met Christ. Man, if you're going to build a religion around Christ, I would think you would listen to him and not some random guy who never once heard Christ preach. Because I'm telling you, Christ was pretty good at telling people what he thought." Blair got up out of his seat, his hands gesturing wildly. "He condemned greed and meanness and hatred. He condemned people who thought they were all that and reminded them that we're all just humans in this together. He forgave the sin of prostitution, and he forgave Peter for his coming betrayal, but he never condemned homosexuality and he never felt the need to forgive anyone for it."

"You can't be suggesting Christ approved of homosexuality," Father Peter sounded shocked and angry, but Angel's anger had largely drained out, replaced by confusion.

"I don't think he cared!" Blair practically shouted. "If he cared, he would have said something."

"He did, through the Apostle Paul. Jesus appeared in a vision—"

"Whoa. Let me tell you, I've had tons of visions. Marijuana will do that. But I've never woken up and tried to convince someone that my vision was real—that I had the right to put my own words in Christ's mouth and that instead of loving and forgiving each other, we were supposed to create a system that systematically discriminated against non-Christians, women, and homosexuals. All the hate came out of Paul."

"Inspired by God," Father Peter's voice was tight with anger, his words clipped.

"Man, believe that if you want, but I'm not biting. And Angel, you need to really think about this habit you have of blindly following the church. I mean, I'm a huge fan of religion. We all need a connection to the universe, to the creator. No way would I ever want you to give that up, but the church isn't God. There is not a whole lot of perfection anyone on this Earth, and that includes the church. I mean, the Vatican refused to save Jews during World War II because they were afraid."

"Thousands of priest and nuns died in concentration camps for hiding Jews. The church never backed away from evil." Father Peter was on his feet now, and Angel was starting to wonder if he was going to have to play peacekeeper.

"Yes, they did. Thousands put their neck on the line for the Jews, but they were doing it in spite of the Vatican, not because the church was doing the right thing. And the children abused by priests who were moved from parish to parish?"

"That has nothing to do with this." Father Peter shouted the words so loud that the front doors came open, and Angel looked over his shoulder as Faith came into the church.

"That has everything to do with this. It's all about blind faith because the thing with moving abusive priests... that was just ignorance. The church leaders didn't understand pedophilia, and they clung to this weird faith that said if a person just confessed and felt sorry that he could avoid sinning again. But pedophilia is no different from schizophrenia. Pedophiles can't just say, 'hey, I guess I'll give up feeling this way.' Even on abortion, the church is all over the map.

"You aren't—"

"St. Augustine believed in delayed ensoulment and said that abortion destroyed only a body, not a soul. St. Jerome said that abortion was only a sin after all the parts and limbs had been formed. Pope Innocent III said that killing a fetus was only murder if the fetus was animated. Man, it was only in the 1800's that the church decided that abortion was murder, so this great infallible church, was it wrong back then or wrong now? Angel, seriously, stop believing everything and just know that the church is a group of good people trying to do the right thing. It doesn't make them all-knowing."

Father Peter took a deep breath before saying in a much calmer voice, "The church is the path to God's mercy."

"And you and I are going to have to just disagree on that," Blair quickly added.

Father Peter looked at Blair for several long and awkward moments before he turned to Angel. "And here I really thought you were exaggerating his annoying qualities."

Blair laughed. "No way. I am an expert in annoyance. And it helps that I know I’m right."

Father Peter frowned. "You really believe you are smarter than centuries of theologians? Are you so arrogant that you would advise someone to step off the path and just wander around the moral abyss and try to figure it out on his own? Do you not see how much danger you're putting Angel in?"

"The danger to my soul isn't my concern," Angel said. "I won't have Xander risking hell in order to sleep with me or any other man."

"Hell?" Father Peter turned to Angel. "While it is true that many Catholics believe homosexuality is a mortal sin that could lead to damnation, a mortal sin generally requires you to understand the nature of the sin and still engage in it. Someone who is confused or mentally ill or ignorant or the nature of sin cannot have an act count as a mortal sin. Clearly Xander is not trying to be sinful or denying God; you two are simply confused."

Blair snorted. "Not sticking with the company line there, are you? Look, Angel, if I'm wrong, like Father Peter said, Xander will spend some time in purgatory."

"A place of suffering," Angel growled, all his earlier anger returning.

"Hey, his life, his choice. But if I'm right, and the church just has its collective head up its collective ass... again... then you're taking away his choices. The question is, are you so damn sure you know right from wrong? Are you willing to assume Xander doesn't know his own soul well enough to make choices for it? Do you really think you have a better moral compass than Xander?"

Angel frowned, not sure how he was supposed to answer that.

Blair reached out and put a hand on Angel's arm. "If he feels homosexual, he has a right to make that choice."

"People feel many things. People feel homicidally angry and vengeful and lust, but we can't call any act inspired by those feelings 'right.' Take Doyle," Father Peter disagreed. "His ex-wife is remarrying, and despite his pain, he is going to her fiancé's bachelor party because he is not ruled by jealousy. Human beings are better than their instincts."

"Oh man. The fiancé wanted Doyle there? That is one seriously open-minded dude."

"Demon, actually," Father Peter corrected him. "I had no idea that there were so many demons in LA, but Richard and his family run a local restaurant."

"Whoa. A demon wanted the ex-husband at the bachelor party?" Blair's body stiffened and Angel sat up straight and scanned the church for some sign of danger that would have made Blair change his mood so quickly.

Father Peter nodded. "It turns out that Doyle's ex-wife is an ethno-demonologist."

"Do you know what type of demon he is?" Blair was edging toward the end of the pew.

Faith took a step closer. "Blair, is something wrong?"

"I really hope not. It's just that some demons have got some pretty wacky customs when it comes to mating." Blair took a second to really glare at Angel. "Father Peter, do you know what kind of demon Richard is?"

"He mentioned it. It was something that reminded me of Latin for 'influence,' which is movi. Is there a problem?"

"Oh man. I really, really hope not."

"Blair, do we need to get involved?" Angel asked. He might be angry with Blair and more than a little resentful that Blair had left him feeling so confused, but he would relish a chance to get involved in any sort of conflict. Faith's body was coiled with tension, and clearly she was just as ready to back Blair up.

"I think I should just, you know, check on him. No need to go crashing in and ruining some guy's bachelor party if they're just enjoying some naked girl or something." Blair held his hand up in a placating gesture. "And seriously, Faith, you are way too likely to cause trouble in a bachelor party full of drunk demons. One case of grab-ass and we're going to have tribal war. Father Peter, maybe you could drive me over to the party?"

"Should I call Harry?"

"Who?" Blair and Angel asked at the same time.

"Doyle's ex-wife," Father Peter explained. He was already pulling his cell phone out of a pocket. "Perhaps I should call her on the way. My car is out back. Angel, we can talk about this later," Father Peter offered. Clearly, the man had picked up on the anxiety that Blair was leaking.

"I should..." Angel started to say.

"Go deal with Xander. Man, that kind of rejection is totally enough to drive a sane person to therapy. This is probably nothing. Father Peter and I will just check on his friend." Blair was almost running backwards as he tried to talk to Angel and run after Father Peter at the same time.

Angel frowned, surprised that Father Peter and Blair would so quickly drop this argument considering the importance of it. Faith put her boot on one of the pews and leaned in.

"So, do we follow?"

Angel shook his head. If Blair needed them, he'd call, and right now he didn't trust himself to have the best judgment. He wanted to hit someone a little too much. Maybe he should go and find Spike. Guilt pulled at him because he had no right to take Spike away from Cordelia... out of her bed. She was the only one who hadn't tried to get Angel to give up his beliefs.

Even more confused than ever, Angel headed for the front door. He hadn't even stopped to get his car, so he would have to walk back to the hotel. Faith fell in beside him, her footsteps keeping time with his. She believed Xander should explore homosexuality. Angel frowned, wondering if that was a sign of her open-mindedness or her sin. Father Peter certainly hadn't argued when Blair said that Christ hadn't mentioned homosexuality. Angel understood why, in his time, the church discouraged the common people from reading the Bible or debating these issues. It made Angel's head hurt.

Faith walked beside him the entire way back to the hotel. Once Angel was in the lobby, back in his territory, he was more confused than ever. He wanted to protect Xander, but he had no answers—only questions.

"Big-A, you going to be okay?" Faith asked.

"Fine." Angel said the word without believing it himself, but he needed to see Xander. He climbed the stairs, leaving her behind in the lobby. Before Father Peter, Xander had been his moral compass. Xander had talked him out of an infatuation that Angel could now see would have destroyed both Buffy and himself. Angel stopped at the smell of Spike and Xander drifting down the hall.

"So, did that answer any questions?" Spike asked in a voice so soft that Angel could almost close his eyes and imagine William with his brown curls and soft hands. Angel stepped closer, his rage rising up like a beast that threatened to rip its way through Angel's chest to escape into the world.

"Gay." Xander sounded sated and happy. "So totally gay." He gave a soft chuckle. "And willing to write letters of recommendation." Jealousy added its voice to Angel's inner screams.

Spike, however, was laughing. Obviously the boy had not yet smelled Angel because if he had, he would not be so pleased about his conquest. Yes, Angel had given him verbal approval, but they had both understood that Angel had not truly given Spike permission to do anything like this. The passage reeked with the mingled scent of their release.

"Bloody right I'm good. I've had a century to take natural talent and refine it into pure sex, haven't I?" The cockney arrogance returned to Spike's voice, and Angel stepped up to the doorway to Xander's room and quietly pushed the door farther open. Xander was laying at Spike's side, his arms wrapped around Spike, and their legs tangled under the sheets. The smell of sex and joy made Angel's demon leap to the front.

"And jealous." Xander whispered the words like a secret. It took Angel a second to realize what Xander was saying. He was gay and jealous. Jealous of Spike or for Spike? Angel had an overwhelming urge to walk over and rip Xander out of Spike's arms. Spike looked up, his blue eyes watching Angel as he stroked Xander's back.

"You'll get your vamp sorted, Xand. I've got faith in that." Spike stared at Angel, and in that promise, Angel could also feel the warning. If Angel didn't get sorted, Spike had every intention of taking the boy for himself. Angel bared his teeth in a silent snarl, and Spike's eyes yellowed even as he continued to stroke Xander. Spike had no right to take what was his. Spike had no right to hold Xander and comfort him. Spike had no right to whisper soft words in a voice that made Angel recall William. Spike was supposed to be the violent demon who Angel fucked and who then got up, still bleeding and limping and left Angel's bed... at least when they reached a bed. Spike wasn't supposed to give or accept comfort and Xander wasn't supposed to turn to Spike.

Angel emotionally flailed. He wanted Xander safely heterosexual. He wanted Xander in his bed. He wanted Spike to lay in bed and share soft touches with him. He wanted to rip into Spike's neck and drain the blood from his body and leave him broken and empty and slowly going insane from lack of blood.

Instead of doing any of that, Angel turned his back and walked out of Xander's room and to his own suite.


	17. 17

Xander shifted under an unfamiliar weight. Blinking, he opened his eyes and started cataloguing all the ways that his world had suddenly changed. He was definitely gay, and he had a sore-muscle kind of ache going on in his ass that reminded him of that. Spike was still with him in bed, and Xander was more than a little surprised at that.

Turning, Xander edged away and Spike's hand slipped down to his hip and then fell to the bed. A blue eye opened.

"Pet?" Spike asked, his voice bleary with sleep. Xander smiled. Spike was cute when he first woke up. Of course, it probably wasn't wise to point out that sleepy-Spike was cute, so he just shook his head. Spike frowned and blinked both eyes open before getting an elbow under him and propping himself up. "You okay, pet?"

"Much with the good. The good and the gay. I have the G's going today," Xander agreed. "And thank you for staying the night." Xander looked down at Spike's hand resting against the white sheets.

Spike reached over and put his hand on Xander's cheek. "Not exactly a chore sleeping in the middle of a warm bed that smells of lust."

"Well, yeah," Xander said weakly, "but I thought you'd want another warm, lusty bed."

Spike tilted his head. "I bloody worship the ground Cordelia walks on. She's a brilliantly vicious creature. But you're a right treat, pet." Spike sighed and twisted himself around so that he was sitting with his back to the headboard. For a second, the room was silent as Spike studied him, and Xander studied the sheets. There were definite stains. Big stains. "Did the great lug every tell you why he tortured Dru the way he did?" Spike finally asked.

"Okay, Spike, this is Angel. He feels broody about the fact that he can't control the world well enough to make everything rainbow bright. He's not going to bring up his torturing past—not unless he's in one of those moods where he wants to torture himself, and even then, I'm not the person he's going to tell those stories to. I think he tells Father Peter the big 'hate me because I'm evil' speeches." Right on cue, Spike rolled his eyes. But Xander would rather have Spike rolling his eyes at Father Peter than eating him.

Xander's eyes slipped down to where the sheet was hooked over one of Spike's legs, revealing his cock. When Xander looked back up, Spike was smirking. "Right then, Dru," he said, ignoring Xander's peek, but spreading his legs a little to give Xander a better view. "For vampires, the holy grail is to sire a vampire so loyal that he'll give his life for ya. The Master had Luke. Darla wanted Angelus to be that for her, but that didn't turn out so well." Spike shrugged. "But with Dru... Angelus was determined to prove that he had the ability to create a vampire who would be loyal enough to even lay down her life for him. He bloody ripped her apart and put her back together."

"Which is where all the weird and inappropriate 'daddy' comments come in," Xander finished. Giles had certainly filled them in on most of that very disturbing story—probably in the hopes that they would all be disturbed enough to stay away from Angel. And the rest he'd seen when Dru had decided that he was a bad puppy and had stalked him through Sunnydale.

"Yeah. And Dru was bloody loyal. Not sane, but loyal."

Xander waited for some sort of explanation that would make this weird morning conversation all logical-like.

"Pet, Angelus hated me when I was a fledge. Dru turned me and, poof, I'm bloody loyal to her. Loyal and sane."

Xander cringed. "Hello insecurity issues," Xander guessed.

"Soddin' right. The bloody mic took it as a challenge to try and turn me against Dru. He played sire, he took me hunting, he turned on me and beat me bloody. Maybe if he'd had enough time..." Spike shrugged. "He never did break my loyalty. It took Dru herself to drive me away, and even then I might 'ave turned to dust for her if you and Angel hadn't called."

"Spike?" Xander was still not connecting the dots into any sort of picture that made sense.

Spike slapped him on the shoulder. "You're part of the clan, pet. I'll bloody rip apart anyone who looks at ya wrong—don't care if it's a human or a moira. I'll be here any time you need, and if ya fuck up, I'll be perfectly happy ta teach you a lesson. But my loyalty..."

"You've given it to Cordelia," Xander guessed.

Spike smirked. "Girl knows how to torture without ever picking up a whip. If she ever gets turned, she'll bloody control the whole west coast. But she has total faith that I'll come home to her, so she doesn't worry about me being up here. My loyalty is hers, and if I forget that, she's promised to torture me into remembering or just setting me on fire." Spike wiggled his eyebrows like immolation was some sort of dirty, kinky sex game, and that was a little on the creepy side.

"But what about Angel?" Xander started to ask. Spike cut him off.

"She made it bloody clear that she's done with being second to Angel in anyone's affection. So, I've made it clear that Angel comes in second to her."

"And I come in third to Angel," Xander guessed. A little part of him understood that... was happy for that, even. He didn't want to come between Spike and Cordelia. Not only would that be really shitty, but it'd be stupidly dangerous. But on the other hand, it was really weird to think that he'd had sex with someone who put him down below others on some sort of mental scale of loyalty.

Xander tried to get out of bed, but Spike's hand darted out and caught him. "Pet, look at me," he ordered.

Xander couldn't. Before he could come up with an excuse, Spike had hauled him close—one arm around Xander's waist and the other under his chin. "You lot and your souls," Spike said with an amused tone. "I bloody loved last night. I loved it, and if you need it again, I'm bloody here and I always will be. Cordelia's not going anywhere, so I'm not either. But you have another vamp who needs you. And when you finally get through to that thick-headed git, I doubt he'll let me near you again. Cordelia has a lot more faith in vampire instincts and hierarchies than Peaches does. Bloody funny, that. But since I doubt I'll get to do this again soon..." Spike leaned in, and then they were kissing. At first, Xander was stiff, not sure what to do with his hands or his lips or his growing erection. But after the first second, all Xander could think about how good it felt.

For long second, Xander lost himself in the play of lips against his mouth and the dance of hands over his bare skin. Then Spike pulled back. He was smiling so widely that his eyes were crinkled at the corners.

"God," Xander sighed.

"I think I shag better than God," Spike said. "But the question is whether you want round two, or whether you're going to get cleaned up and go see for yourself that Cordelia is fine," Spike said. His hand trailing over Xander's hip was definitely pushing him toward door number one, but he was sore and even with Spike's reassurance, he was wigging a little.

"I think, maybe, you know..." Xander looked over at the door. Spike rolled his eyes and slapped Xander on the hip.

"Tell her we're going to need more blood." Spike sounded totally calm about it all as turned on his side and dropped back down onto the pillow. Clearly he wasn't worried at all, but then Spike and worry were definitely not friends. Not even friendly acquaintances. Now Xander and worry were way more with the intimate friendship.

"And pet, you might want to shower before Angel runs into you," Spike suggested sleepily.

Xander sniffed his underarm. He didn't think he smelled, but then vampires tended to do really weird things with sniffing. And while he really did plan to tell Angel, he might not want to tell him this fast. It would be good to get his own brain around the sex before having any more sex talks.

The shower turned into a wank-fantasy that started with Spike and ended with Angel all yellow-eyed and strong. Of course, that fantasy was definitely going to stay a fantasy. Spike had been so totally wrong about the part where he thought Angel would take Xander to bed, but he was right about Angel not trusting his vampire instincts. Yep, Angel trusted Father Peter. Father Peter said gay sex was wrong. Therefore, Xander was so totally screwed... or not screwed. Okay, he had been screwed, but he wasn't getting any more screwing unless he found someone else. And maybe he was being big with the prejudiced, but he didn't think it was going to be all that easy to find a gay happily-ever-after. Girls were more about the sappy stuff, but with Anya's deadline breathing down his neck, he was definitely running low on choices.

Xander stalled as he pulled on clothes. It was nearly noon, and the sun poured down onto the street. Normally he wasn't up until two or three since he did the night-class gig, but his brain was twisting into pretzel shapes as he thought about what he was going to do. Of course, his body pretty much voted for turning around and crawling back in bed with Spike. If it weren't for Cordelia and for Spike's need for a dominant lover, Xander could so see things being pretty close to perfect on that front. At least the sex was perfect.

When he stuck his head out into the hallway, Xander was surprised at the quiet. No Faith, no Blair, no Angel pacing up and down and randomly growling, and Xander had kind of expected that last one. After Angel's big growly moment last night, Xander thought he'd still be two steps behind Blair randomly threatening the man.

Xander got all the way to the lobby without seeing anyone, but a familiar face was sitting on the big circle couch. "Um... hi," Xander offered Graham.

"Xander. Hello." Graham smiled and nodded. "It's good to see you again."

"Yeah," Xander shot Cordelia a confused look, but she just shrugged and then went back to filing her nails to show just how little she cared. Xander just wasn't sure if she was not-caring girl about Graham or him and Spike or just the world in general.  
"Morning, Cordy," Xander said hopefully. Last night had been... pretty fucking perfect. But he so totally did not want another round of weirdness and hurt feelings.

"So, are you off the fence?" Cordelia put her file down and really stared at him.

"Um, kinda," Xander admitted. If he had to pick between Spike or Faith, he was picking Spike. Actually, Spike scared him way less than Faith or Cordelia, but he was way too smart to tell any of them that.

Cordelia studied him, her eyes sliding over his body. "You're so gay," she said with a dismissive shrug.

"Um, that was sort of the point," Xander answered. He noticed that Graham was looking way more than slightly confused, but he didn't plan on explaining anything. He still wasn't quite sure why he was getting a free pass from Cordy, but he was so not poking that gift horse by repeating the tale far and wide.

Cordelia looked him up and down. "Next time, sleep with Graham if you feel the need to scratch that itch," she said. For a second, Xander could only choke on his shock and indignation, and really, he lived in a hotel with Cordelia and Spike, he should not have any shock or indignation left. He should have been shocked and indignated out after a week.

"I... Xander, I'm sorry, but I'm not gay," Graham hurried to say.

"You're in a very small minority around here," Xander said, he then flinched when Cordelia gave him a particularly hard stare.

"What?" Graham's voice was somewhere between shocked and squeaky.

Time for a tactical verbal retreat. "No problem. I do not plan on going there—not that you are very attractive, because you are. Very attractive with the whole manly-man look, not that only manly men are attractive, because Cordy here is still very much... and I’m stopping now." Xander decided that his feet needed to retreat because his mouth's retreat button was obviously broken.

"Does anyone want coffee, because I think I need to do something before I manage to get both feet in my mouth at once." Xander could feel his face get hot. Okay, he was obviously way better at being gay than talking about it. But then, after years of trumpeting his heterosexuality, his tongue was probably just tripping over the sudden about face. Not that it had been all that sudden. The Michael Knight fantasy had been in there right alongside Catwoman and the very hot and very scary women of Star Trek Voyager.

"I'm surprised your mouth isn't foot-shaped from the amount of time you have one shoved in there," Cordelia offered. "Angel went storming off into the sewers, by the way, and you *will* be dealing with that mess, understood?" Cordelia gave him a sweet smile, one that made him want to reach down and protect his cock and balls with his hands.

"Dealing with Angel. Got it. And Graham, unless you have really, really good news, you might want to be big with the scarceness when the Irish one returns. He's..." Xander thought about how to explain this whole screwy situation. If Angel would have just slept with him in the first place, this wouldn't be so very, very screwed up. "He's going to be cranky," Xander finished with a helpless shrug.

Cordelia snorted. "Homicidally cranky. And if he eviscerates Spike, I'm eviscerating you." Cordelia's smile thinned into something pretty wicked and homicidal looking before she turned to head back to the kitchens.

Xander watched her disappear. "And people wonder why I'm gay," he sighed. "Or bisexual. Or bisexual with a strong preference for gay. And I think I’m tripping over my tongue again. Seriously, would you like some coffee, Graham? If we hurry, we can probably still cut Cordelia off before she touches the coffeemaker. Her coffee is more good with the stripping of paint or repelling of demons than with the drinking."

"Coffee would be fine," Graham nodded.

"Watch the floor. We had a d'mak'ta staying here and we haven't gotten all the mucus off the floor yet," Xander suggested as he followed Cordelia. Graham looked at him oddly and then stared at the floor for a second before following Xander.

"A demak'ta?

"D'mak'ta," Xander corrected him. "They're fairly harmless, but no way can they pass for human, which is why they need the demon-friendly hotel. That and the fact that most people don't want to scrape snot off their floor. They make really bad house-guests, but really pay well." Xander shrugged and pointed to a glob. He'd get around to cleaning it when it dried enough to stick together instead of sticking to him.

"It's an interesting line of work." Graham sounded like he was about ready to call for the guys in the white coats, but Xander supposed it did look kinda crazy from the outside. And actually, it was nice to have someone focus on the demon hotel crazy instead of the bed-hopping demony crazies.

"It pays the bills and keeps Cordelia from crawling all over Angel about bills and salaries." Xander pushed through into the kitchen and sighed at the electrical wires still hanging out of the walls. "And if it's a wire, don't touch it," he suggested. He was never, ever going to get all the crap around this place fixed—not even if he magically got a crew of fifty and a hundred years.

"So, what brings you to L.A.?" Xander asked. He hurried over and grabbed the coffee out of Cordelia's hands. The withering look she gave him was way less scary than her coffee.

Graham didn't answer right away, but he was one of those people who tended to think things through before talking, sort of an anti-Xander. "The general believed that we should have a liaison officer here," he finally answered.

"I think there's already enough liaisoning going on around here." Cordelia gave Xander one of her looks. Xander paused as he scooped out the grounds, studying her as he tried to figure out if this was normal Cordelia-torture or if she was more pissed than he thought. He never wanted to hurt her, and he wouldn't have dreamed of taking Spike up on the offer if he thought it would hurt her. Maybe if she was looking at him, he'd have a change to judge her level of pissedness, but she was focusing on Graham.

When the silence descended on the room, she finally looked over at him. For a second, she frowned, and then she rolled her eyes.

"Get over yourself. Any bad mood I am indulging in has more to do with my lack of appropriate pay and the lack of respect I am getting from our guests than your bed hopping."

"So, we're okay?" Xander asked hopefully.

"Oh please. If I had a problem, I would have said something. It's not the same with vampires, and you know it." Cordelia crossed her arms and did that breast-plumping thing she did when she was really on the verge of sharpening her claws on your internal organs.

A little voice told Xander to shut up, but that advice was way too good for him to actually take it. "Hey, not a vampire here," he pointed out.

"No, you're more like vampire imprinted, like those little ducks that follow some plane around because they're stupid and think that the plane is their mother, that's you, only with vampires."

"Hey, I am not ducklike!"

Cordelia looked him up and down again, and Xander could feel his face heat up. Slowly, she smiled one of her vicious smiles that made it pretty clear she could date a vampire and come out on top. "If it looks like a duck and waddles like a duck...." Cordelia looked pointedly down toward Xander's legs.

Graham snorted with laughter and then very quickly covered with a loud cough. Xander brought his legs together quickly, his face heating as he realized he been standing all wide-legged and ducklike. But he couldn't help it; he was sore. And now that he had his legs together, he was more sore. Cordelia rolled her eyes at him. "Dork," she announced. And with that, she was out the kitchen door and heading back for the counter. He'd take her a cup of coffee later, and maybe she'd tell him what she was really upset about.

Xander sighed and started counting out little scoops of coffee and pouring them into the filter. "So, Graham... why did the general send you?" Xander frowned, realizing about two seconds too late that it sounded like he was implying that the general shouldn't have sent him. "Not that there's a problem with him sending you— Okay, I am seriously in babble mode, so feel free to cut me off. I've just had an... interesting day." Xander finished and flipped the coffee maker to on before he turned to face the guy.

"Maybe we should wait—" Graham stopped and shook his head. "I don't mean to be taciturn, Xander, but I don't know the rules here, and I'm trying to not step on any toes."

That was a little odd. "What toes are you afraid of stepping on, because there are lots of toes around, but you'd be amazed at how hard it is to step on them. I'm a champion toe-stepper, and no one takes it particularly badly when I step away," Xander offered. From the look on Graham's face, he was wigging almost as bad as Xander, and the truth was, Xander always like dealing with other people's wig-outs way more than his own. For a second, he didn't think Graham was going to answer, but then the guy shrugged.

"The prevailing thinking was that since Spike had already established dominance with me, he might be more willing to have me around." Graham pulled out a kitchen chair and straddled it, his back to the table as he faced Xander.

"Okay, that's weirdly not stupid for the government. When did the government become not stupid?"

Graham laughed. "Captain Finn suggested that vampire behavior more closely resembled the psychology of predators than humans. Being stuck in a vampire body changed the way he saw our mission, so our unit has recruited a couple of wildlife biologists. They said that since Spike already broke my arm and proved that he could take me in a fight, he might be less homicidal at the thought of me joining your group as a liaison between here and Sunnydale."

"Spike as a tiger, that actually works. Well, except for the whole implication for bestiality because, seriously, when it comes to sex, I am calling him one-hundred percent human because anything less is going to seriously squick me."

Graham looked like he had just bitten something sour. "Xander, I know the bite is addictive. He didn't...." Graham waved a hand in the air that made it look like he was implying that Spike had been surfing... or maybe belly-dancing... those might be belly-dancing moves Graham was making with his hands.

"Hey! I will have you know that I am perfectly capable of picking semi-inappropriate partners all on my own. Not that I'm saying Spike was inappropriate, because he was weirdly appropriate, and that is all I'm going to say about that very not-so-horrible night. Well, other than there was no biting involved. There was sex, but with vampires in a clan that is way less committmenty than biting."

"So you enjoyed it?"

"Oh yeah. So very much with the yeah. Total yeah." Xander stopped. He could feel the big stupid grin on his face, but he could not seem to get it to go away. "And this is so not the conversation I planned to have with pretty much anyone, much less some guy I don't really know much."

"Sometimes it's easier when you don't know someone," Graham offered.

"You're another of those psycho people, like Riley, aren't you," Xander accused the man.

"Psych," Graham corrected him, "and I'm guilty as charged. The Sunnydale unit needed men who could think on their feet and handle extreme psychological readjustment as well as follow orders. Even when Walsh was there, the command wasn't a traditional one."

"Walsh... the creepy 'shooting her guys up with weird hormones' lady, right?" Xander asked.

Graham nodded.

"Okay, that's what I expect from the government—pure stupidity and a real lack of concern about things like people's rights." That comment made Graham flinch, but he didn't try to defend himself. Xander figured that if he could get over the urge to try and win arguments, Angel and Spike just might let him stay.

After a second, Graham looked over at Xander. "Professor Walsh was sentenced to eight years in a military prison for her willingness to ignore the rights of the men on whom she was experimenting. She was out of line, and her treatment of demons was misguided. The whole government isn't like her. "

"Just parts," Xander pointed out before he went to get eggs out of the refrigerator. "And I hope you know that if you guys don't back Buffy up, Angel is going to make you more than a little miserable."

"I think that's pretty well known," Graham agreed. "The unit is doing well in Sunnydale. That's actually why I'm here, but I think I should probably be discussing this with Angel."

The doors pushed open and Spike came in, his hair still falling in soft curls. "If ya want the great sod to listen to whatever you have to say, best to tell Xander first. He's got a way of manipulating Peaches," Spike suggested. Walking over to the fridge, he pulled a bag of blood out. "I couldn't sleep with the soddin' bed empty," Spike complained as he wandered over and gave Xander's hip a sharp slap.

"Ow!" Xander complained more for effect than because of any hurt. Spike raised an eyebrow at him.

"Git." Spike reached over Xander to pull a mug out of the cupboard.

"As long as Cordy is," Xander offered.

Spike cocked his head. "Her foul mood's not got anything to do with you, luv. You two are still right as rain," he promised, and Xander could only hope that Spike was telling the truth because Xander did not want her being all pissed and pissy and hurt. None of those were good things in his book. And he'd hurt her already. He'd hurt her more than he'd understood until he'd finally admitted to himself that he did love Angel. Dating one person and loving another was way, way worse than even the sleeping with someone else bit. Looking back, Xander really hadn't been given a whole lot of choice about sleeping with Faith, but he had totally been choiceful when he'd fallen for Angel.

"So, you," Spike said as he turned a harsh glare toward Graham. Xander gave the guy credit for having balls because the soldier just stood beside the table. He didn't even flinch at the sight of the vampire who had beaten the snot out of him and broken his arm. "Start talking."

"I really should...." Graham took a deep breath as he seemed to make some sort of decision. Of course, his change of heart might have something to do with the fact that Spike had vamped out and was glaring at him with yellowed eyes. "The general believes that the best way to minimize the risk is to insert teams with locals, to provide trained back up and firepower based on local intel and request from local support. That way we can eliminate major threats without accidentally taking out undisruptive species that might be controlling an invasive species from taking root in an area."

"Am I alone in thinking... huh?" Xander asked.

"They don't want to kill off the good guys and let the world-endin' types take over," Spike translated. "So, they figure ta send you in? What if I break your other arm and send you toddling off to wherever the fuck you soldier-boys go when you aren't tripping on your own boot-laces?" Spike leaned back against the counter, and Xander recognized the cat-playing-with-mouse expression. He'd been the mouse to Spike's cat often enough that he knew Spike was just playing, but Graham had turned a little gray around the edges.

Graham drew himself up even taller. "That was a risk I was willing to take. The second I started thinking with my larger brain, I realized that I had no business sleeping with Faith. Your actions were extreme, but I can't call them unjustified."

Spike started moving forward, his hips rolling in a dangerous prowling gait.

"Um, Spike?" Xander called. Spike totally ignored him. Weirdly, Graham did too. Graham just tightened his jaw and focused his gaze on his own shoes. His gray complexion had gone white.

"So, you think you can play games, you think you can write reports and predict how I'll react to you? Are you really that sure of yourself?" Spike's voice was cold and cruel, and something hard and tight settled into the pit of Xander's stomach. This was not feeling gamelike.

"Maybe I should go get Cordy," Xander suggested in a small voice. Yep, Cordy would just bitchslap Spike into being more Spikelike and less... completely, freaking terrifyingly vampy.

"Sit," Spike growled, his yellow eyes freezing Xander mid-step.

"Or I could sit," Xander agreed, dropping into a chair as far away from Graham as he could. Oh this could go so very, very wrong. And this was the creature who he had trusted enough to have sex with. This was the creature Cordelia was still having sex with—who she intimidated by glaring at. He wasn't sure if that said something scary about Spike or Cordelia or maybe both.

"So, you think you want to join our merry little band, is that it?" Spike asked, and now he had a creepy-friendly voice going. The hairs on Xander's arm stood up.

"I am here to present a request to Angel. I have no interest in pushing in where I'm not wanted." Graham's voice sounded calm, but Xander could see the man's left hand tremble slightly as he held it down by his side. Oh, this was so going to turn ugly because the smell of fear was an aphrodisiac to most demons. He figured that was why no demons ever bothered Cordy—she never felt fear. She just inspired it in others.

"Too late. You pushed in here." Spike stopped on Graham's right side. Reaching up, he ran a finger over Graham's neck. "So, you stop to think what the initiation ritual might include?" Spike kept right on stroking the skin on the side of Graham's neck. The trembling in his left hand increased until he reached out and grabbed the edge of the table and stilled it.

"I know that a lot of creatures have dominance displays. I know I'm not anywhere near the top of the dominance pile around here and that if you accept me as a liaison officer that you'll probably feel a need to point that out on a regular basis."

Spike cocked his head. "Dominance displays? Makes me sound like a bloody peacock." With a snort, Spike turned his back and the vampire features fell away. Xander, however, kept holding his breath. "So, what sort of dominance displays did you expect?" Spike asked in the same disinterest tone he might use to ask about the weather, if he ever had asked about weather. He took his mug of blood and put it in the microwave. With his back turned, he was giving Graham the perfect chance to either attack or run, and Xander really, really hoped the guy understood just how stupid both of those would be.

Graham's gaze slipped over to Xander, but Xander could only stare at the man blankly. If Graham wanted answers, he should so be cheating off someone who actually understood what was going on. That person would not be Xander.

"I was hoping that it wouldn't be anything more serious than what you did in Sunnydale. You certainly proved your superiority in a fight over and over... and over." Graham swallowed, and the humor sounded forced, even to Xander who didn't have vamp hearing.

"No other thoughts?" The microwave dinged and Spike took his blood out before he finally turned around again. He slowly brought the mug up to his lips and drank the blood with an expression of pure, unadulterated joy. Xander had seen the vamps drink blood a whole lot, and he'd never seen Spike make a show out of it the way he was now.

"None that I'd like to share," Graham said.

Spike didn't answer right away. His eyes had fallen closed, and slowly he brought the mug down. When he finally opened his eyes, they were yellow again. "Don't care what you want to share. I asked a question, mate." Spike carefully placed the mug on the counter.

Graham swallowed. "The unit has often discussed the possibility that you feed from the humans in the group."

"So, you signed up for that, did you? Maybe you're curious?" Spike looked Graham up and down as though he were a car Spike was thinking about stealing. From the thoughtful look on Spike's face, Graham was landing in the 'maybe worth it' category.

Graham swallowed several times, his Adam's apple bouncing. "I would endure that."

"Not for long. After two or three times, you'd crave that. I can always smell the ones who would enjoy the bite. And with the bite, we'd have to break you in a bit."

Graham's eyes finally left the floor and they stared at Spike with heat and anger, and for a half-second, Xander wondered if Spike was going to react to that silent challenge. Then Spike laughed. "Pillock," he declared before he picked up his mug and headed out for the front. As he was passing Graham, he stopped and looked at first Graham and then Xander.

"I don't bloody rape, but before you lot play this game with another court, you'd better soddin' understand one thing: proving allegiance usually involves going arse up in front of the whole court and letting them all have a shot at fucking you. You're just lucky that this clan has a different definition of allegiance and a different use for sex—got it?"

"Understood," Graham immediately answered.

Spike snorted again, and then he pushed back through the doors.

Once Spike left, Xander started breathing again. Graham all but collapsed into the chair across from Xander, his face even more pale than a vampire's. The kitchen was so silent, Xander could hear Graham's rough breath and his own madly beating heart.

"Um, Graham, you may want to run for the hills before you get a second round of that speech," Xander suggested softly. Graham looked up at him, and his pale face was slowly turning pink like he'd been out in the sun too long.

"I volunteered for this, but if I don't complete the mission and present the offer, someone else will come in my place. If someone has to do this, I'm the best choice." Graham stopped. Xander understood duty and he understood the need for evil-fighting groups to make their own Justice-League type alliances, but that didn't mean he understood Graham's willingness to walk into the middle of this. "I'm just glad that it doesn't look like I'll have to actually sleep with...." The pink in his face deepened. "Not that there's anything wrong with sleeping with a man. It's not something I'm interested in, but that's not suggesting that there's anything inherently wrong—I have no problem with Willow and Tara, no problem at all."

Xander watched with more than a little amusement. He wondered if he looked like that when he got going. Maybe Graham caught a look at the amused expression on Xander's face because he closed his mouth. Clearing his throat, Xander focused on his coffee cup and tried not to smile. "Whoa, wait." He looked up. "Willow and who?"

"Tara. Tara Maclay. The woman Willow is seeing."

Xander put his coffee down so fast that it slopped over the sides. "Willow's gay?" Xander could hear his own voice squeak. For a second, Graham just frowned at him in confusion. But Xander was way more confused than Graham was. Willow was his friend. Okay, Willow had been his friend and now she was more like someone he had fond thoughts about when he actually thought about her, but still, he should know she had her gay on.

"She's dating a woman, so yes, I think she's gay."

"But what about Oz... and as someone who just jumped the genderline I'm sounding weirdly unopenminded here, but what about Oz? Didn't he come back?"

"No, he's been gone since before the spell that turned Riley into a vampire. Willow started dating Tara not long after that."

"Way to be way uninlooplike," Xander sighed. "She was my best friend for years, and she doesn't even mention to be that she's going gay."

"Did you tell her about your change of heart?" Graham asked, and suddenly his voice sounded a whole lot like Xander's second therapist, the one who turned blue if you managed to say something really, really shocking.

Xander glared at Graham. "That would be a 'no.' However, being girl-gay is way less stressful than being boy-gay. Face it, girl-gay just inspires thoughts of the lusty sort, not the gay-bashing sort."

"So, you were afraid she would bash you?" Graham asked in confusion. Xander glared at the man harder and picked up his coffee again.

"No. I’m just a big, old coward who so did not want to have that conversation. Look, the weirdness goes way back and trust me, you do not want to hear that sordid little tale. Any time there are multiple women involved, the man is not going to come out without emotional and psychological damage, and I am not going there."

"Multiple women?" Graham sounded downright interested.

Xander thought about those days. Willow had been chasing him, and he'd felt like shit that he couldn't like her. Instead, he'd gone chasing first Amy and then Kendra and then finally the holy grail of women, Cordelia. He'd shocked himself when he landed her. And then Faith had landed him. Oh there were way too many women involved in that story. Xander was just amazed he'd walked away with a cock still attached to his body. Rather than explaining any of this, Xander gave a half shrug. "I tell you what. Angel's going to be off brooding most of the day. Why don't you help me put in the wiring for the new stove and I'll find you a room."

"I'd appreciate that," Graham answered. "Do you mind if I get myself some coffee?" he asked. Xander waved a hand in the general direction of the coffee maker, and Graham got up to serve himself. Willow was gay. That was just sort of freaky. Xander wondered if Jesse would have given up the girl-chasing when he grew up. Maybe they'd all drunk gay water or something. Life was truly strange, sometimes. And hopefully, now that he was officially and cherry-popped gay, he could get Angel to act like a vampire instead of a stick up his ass Puritan. If not, things were about to get even stranger now than they had been back during his Willow-avoidance days.


	18. 18

"Whoa. Oh man, did a wire demon attack?" Blair called. Xander pulled his head out of the ceiling and looked down at Blair who stood at the foot of the ladder.

"Please tell me that you're joking about there being a wire demon," Xander begged. He had enough trouble trying to deal with wires without wire demons.

"He'd better be!" Graham called from his spot behind the stove. He was pulling wire while Xander was trying to get it to go where it was supposed to go in the ceiling.

"Totally. I think," Blair answered. "Oh hey, you were the guy Faith.... Wow, there's really no good way to put that, is there?" Blair sounded friendly enough as he held a hand out, and Graham reached over the stove to shake it.

"The guy Faith slept with two seconds before Spike kicked his ass?" Graham filled in. "Yep, that's me."

"Has Spike seen you?" Blair asked, and from the tone, he was expecting bad, bad things.

"Seen me, threatened me, and wandered off," Graham agreed. "I used to think the Rangers had some serious hazing issues, but Spike does take in-group behaviors to a whole new level."

Blair laughed. "Totally. You have no clue. Demons make sorority girls looked like amateurs when it comes to cliques. So, did you just come over to help install the stove?" Blair sounded like a big old doubter on that front.

Xander dropped his pliers into the bucket he'd tied to the side of his ladder. "Oh no, Riley sent him over to change teams." Xander realized that he'd phrased that badly when Blair choked on a half-laugh and Graham's mouth fell open. "And I am not talking about Faith or sexual teams, not that Faith is on a particular sexual team. Shit." Xander rolled his eyes at himself. One day, he'd grow up and learn to use his mouth for something other than self-humiliation.

"Riley suggested I would be a good liaison officer," Graham said, saving Xander from his own verbal diarrhea.

Blair looked from Xander to Graham with more than a little concern. "Um, you do know that you're going to have to give your loyalty to Angel, right? I mean, the military is totally into following orders, but you are not going to get to follow their orders and live in Angel's house." Blair frowned. "Okay, you might get away with it for a while because Angel is like..." Blair whistled to show the size of that problem.

"A giant stick-up-his-butt, church-going idiot?" Xander filled in for Blair. The look Blair gave him was full of sympathy and maybe a little concern.

"I don't think I'd put it exactly like that," Blair said slowly.

"Oh, I would," Xander said. "I could think of a few more words, but I'm not entirely sure I'm using them right, so I would need to check with a dictionary first." Xander realized he was probably going into way more than he wanted to go into. Graham was basically a stranger, and yeah, Blair was family, but he was like cousin family, and Angel-bashing was more something he did with Spike. "And you've been missing. Where were you?" He quickly changed the topic.

Blair got a wild-eyed look. "Oh man, it was crazy. It turns out Doyle's wife was getting remarried, but the new hubby's family wanted to engage in a little ritual eating of the brains. I mean, I know Samoans consider a few pig brains a real delicacy, but this was a little out there." Blair leaned back against the kitchen table and gave an exaggerated shudder.

Xander came down a couple of steps on the ladder. "Is he okay?"

"Oh yeah. His ex is more than able to verbally eviscerate any and all demons. The wedding is off, and Doyle actually went running after her."

"After her as in..." Xander looked at Blair hopefully. Whenever Doyle came around, Angel got all weird and stressed. It wasn't fair to Doyle, but sometimes Xander really wished he would just stop coming around.

"After her as in he's dealt with some of his issues. He's going to try and get back with her." Blair smile. "Man, he is still totally in love with her. Maybe now that he hates himself a little less, he can make it work this time around."

"Doyle hated himself?" Xander frowned. Doyle never seemed like he was into the self-hate.

"Totally," Blair agreed with a sigh. "He didn't know he was a demon until he was a teenager. I mean, sometimes Naomi did some pretty questionable things, mom-wise, but she never lied like that. And she knew I wasn't going to pop out green and spiky. So, it's not like I would have caught her in that lie. But she never played those mind games. I seriously need to thank her for teaching me to be okay with my demonic side."

"You're a demon?" Graham sounded shocked, and it occurred to Xander that there were lots of things the Sunnydale group and the LA group had stopped talking to each other about a long time ago.

"Only about this much," Blair said holding up two fingers with about an inch between them. "But man, my grandparents were orthodox Jews, so that was enough for them to order my mom to have an abortion. And then, after I was born, they were ready to try a retroactive abortion."

"But if they were orthodox Jews, surely they didn't approve of abortion," Graham said. Xander rolled his eyes because the last thing they needed around here was one more person ready, willing, and able to talk religion. There was already too much going on, as far as he was concerned.

Blair shrugged. "Different rabbis will give you different stories, but the Halakhah has the protection of life as one of the first rules. Since a baby in the womb is only potential life, protecting the mother's actual life takes precedence. However, being that I had a demonic father, my grandparents' rabbi decided I wasn't even potential life. And man, that was so not cool. But hey, it's not like I'm the only one with family issues." Blair shrugged like it wasn't any big deal. "I'm just glad Doyle is finally dealing with the fact he has issues and he's trying to embrace the inner demon."

"So his wife is okay with the demony?" Xander flinched. "And of course she is—she was marrying another demon."

Blair laughed. "Harry's an ethno-demonologist. I mean, whoa. You have to love a woman who challenges gender stereotypes and creates a new anthropological field. Man, if Doyle strikes out, I am so going for it." Blair thrust a fist out to show just how much he was going to go for it.

"Just as long as Doyle doesn't end up back here, I'll wish him bad luck so you can give it your best shot." Xander brushed the ceiling dust off and headed for the refrigerator.

"Bad blood?" Graham asked. The stove screeched against the floor as Graham pushed it out a little more to give himself room to escape the cramped and greasy space. Yep, Graham had the shitty half of this job.

"No, not really. Angel just gets stick up his butt over Doyle," Xander said with a shrug. He held up a soda, silently offering one to Graham, who held up his hand to catch one.

Blair snorted. "Angel has too many people telling him the right thing to do. But I think Doyle is taking the Powers that Be out of the equation."

"Oh?" Xander gave Blair all his attention at that little piece of information.

"Oh yeah." Blair didn't sound sorry at all. "Doyle thinks the Powers are punishing him because his visions are turning vague and coming far less often. In other words, they're turning into normal visions. Man, if someone rewarded me with migraines, I would be totally okay with some punishment." Blair pulled out a kitchen chair, but instead of sitting on it, he sat on the table and put his foot on the chair.

"Visions?" Graham asked, sounding like a big doubter-boy. "Real visions?"

"Several demons do the vision thing. My cousin claims to get them all the time," Blair nodded. "Of course, I'm fairly sure my cousin is lying through his teeth, or at least obfuscating through his teeth, but Doyle had the real deal."

"And now he doesn't?" Xander wasn't sure what to think of that.

Blair shrugged. "He's still a fatidic demon, so he'll get the visions, but I don't think the Powers are supercharging them anymore. D'fatum demons believe that if you slip out of your fate, sometimes you physically change... you'll lose a lot of weight or your eye color will change or your powers either get stronger or weaker. Whistler would probably insist that it was some sort of warning."

"What do you think?" Xander wasn't a great Doyle fan, mostly because Doyle did bring out the unhappy in Angel, but he didn't want the guy to get screwed over.

"I think people have a right to make their own lives," Blair said firmly. "If he loves Harry, he should try to make the best life he can for himself, and all this following fate stuff is... I mean... Okay, so there's a pattern to the universe, a certain karmic justice, but that does not mean you have to be the flotsam and jetsam getting shoved around. You know?"

Xander shrugged as he thought about the way his life had been going lately. "I'm feeling pretty flotsamy."

Blair looked at him with all this worry, kinda like when Xander had told his mother he was moving to the "big city." Of course, he was a little worried about himself, truth be told. It was pretty easy to ignore the fact he was head over heels in love with Angel when he was firmly in denial. Now, he had to admit that his guts were twisting around at the thought that Angel didn't want a relationship. It was like when he was trying to get up the nerve to ask Kendra out. Other than Kendra, all his relationships sort of fell on him without much effort, and now Xander wasn't sure how he was supposed to deal with these feelings or do the chasing in the relationship.

"I hear you," Blair finally offered softly. Xander wanted to change the topic, but as he watched Graham wiping his hands on a towel and looking anywhere other than Xander, he realized that he couldn't think of any topic other than Angel. How had his good mood managed to vanish so totally?

"Xander!" Cordelia screeched from the front room. "Get out here and deal with this because I'm not doing it." Xander jumped when Cordelia slammed the kitchen door open. "I do not clean floors!"

Xander opened his mouth to answer, but he couldn't find words before she went through the kitchen and stormed out into the back courtyard.

"Whoa. So not going after her." Blair whispered with exaggerated horror.

"And that would be why Spike is the only person not scared to ask her out," Xander agreed. He eyed the door out to the lobby wondered what had been bad enough to set her off like that.

"But I thought you dated her," Graham said, sounding confused. Then again, if he was going to hang around for long, he'd better get used to being confused.

"But I was not the one doing asking. She just kinda announced she was claiming me one day," Xander said with a shrug. "Which is one more thing you'll be getting used to if you hang around here. But right now, I really think I should probably see what major structural damage has been done. Blair can entertain you with stories about tree houses, right, Blair?" Xander turned his best puppy eyes on Blair. He liked Graham, but that didn't mean he trusted him if one of their slimier guests had gone and done something particularly slimy. Soldiers and slime were probably not the best mix, and killing hotel guests was really not cool if they wanted to make the business work.

"Kombai Tree people," Blair muttered, but Xander was creeping out the door and trying to figure out whether the slimy was still actively sliming things. Cordy would never put him in danger, but she had no problem putting him in the path of extreme ick. The lobby seemed quiet as Xander crept out of the back hall. Sure enough, there was a serious trail of something that looked suspiciously like bits of innards.

"Okay, that's just gross," Xander said as he looked at a clump of something that looked like green liver.

"I didn't mean— I'll clean that up."

Xander looked up, and Angel was standing near the weapons cage with a shredded shirt and bits of glop still clinging to him. Oh yeah, Angel had two ways of dealing with stress—brooding and slaying. Xander didn't have to guess about which one he'd picked today.

"Is that anyone we knew?" Xander asked as he looked at the slime trail.

Angel looked back at the mess he'd made and finished wiping the last of the ick off the sword before putting it back into place. "Hacksaw demon was trying to set up shop. Had a few henchmen around to protect it."

From the amount of gore and Angel's injuries, Xander was guessing that it had more than a few henchmen... either that or hacksaw demons were seriously bad bad-asses. Xander just watched as Angel locked up the weapons and then turned to look at him with that constipated expression that meant that Angel needed to go brood or go kill more. Xander was guessing that Angel had come home for a shower, a few mugs of blood and a new weapon before he went out again. Angel was sadly predictable.

"So, are we going to talk?" Xander asked.

"About the fact that you let Spike fuck you?" Angel asked with uncommon crudeness. Oh yeah, he had his head way up his butt tonight.

"For one," Xander said sweetly, refusing to answer crude with crude. It used to annoy the life out of him when Willow did that—when she totally ignored the ways he tried to piss her off. It obviously had a similar effect on Angel because he clenched his jaw until the muscle went all bulgy. "And then there's the part where you think you have a right to tell me what's right and what's wrong," Xander added as he crossed the lobby to stand not more than six feet from Angel. He would have gotten closer only the smell was a little totally disgusting. No wonder Cordy had run for the hills.

"I'm just concerned about your choices." Angel could barely get the words out with his jaw clenched so tight.

Xander sighed. This would be so much easier if Angel was trying to be an idiot, but he was just being his normal Angel self. "When I'm doing wrong, I know it," Xander pointed out. "And last night was not feeling wrong. It pretty much felt..." Xander stopped when he spotted the look on Angel's face. "If felt like something we're never going to discuss or bring up again," Xander cleared his throat and tried to not notice that Angel was looking homicidal. Hopefully Spike planned to be scarce for a while because it was not looking healthy for him right now.

"I don't have to approve of your choices," Angel said, his voice pretty much making it clear that he was lying through his teeth. He desperately wanted to have the right to approve or disapprove, and that wasn't all that surprising considering he was a demon, even when he was trying really, really hard to not be one.

"Good, because I'm in the right here."

"Father Peter—" Angel started to say, but Xander cut him off before he could go any farther with that.

"Okay, can we please have one conversation without Father Peter? I'm really starting to regret dragging you into that church, and the irony of this whole conversation? So not lost on me. But when I dragged you in there, I wanted you to talk to someone, not open your brain and let someone else set up camp in there." Xander could hear himself start to shout, but Angel and Father Peter were going through his last nerve. He was either going to shout or shoot Angel somewhere really painful. Maybe both.

"I haven't—"

"Oh yes, you have. Father Peter says.... Father Peter says...." Xander said in his snottiest voice. Then he took a deep breath and tried to reclaim some sort of calm. Otherwise he was going to be down to calling Angel poop names at this rate. "Angel, at one point, you were the champion of 'homosexual is normal,' remember?"

For a second, Angel just stared at him, like he couldn't keep up with all the emotions spilling out. Normally, Xander would be the first to wade in and try and explain things and reassure Angel, but this time, he just let Angel flail. Eventually he nodded. "You thought being homosexual was weak."

"And clearly I have more trouble with the logic than the knowing right from wrong. After seeing you and Spike, I can safely say that homosexuals are allowed to be kick-ass scary." Xander backed up until he could sit on the round couch. Honest. He definitely needed to share some honesty here. He glanced up, and Angel looked more freaked out now than ever. Xander ignored the little part of him that felt guilty because it would be so dang easy to just let Angel off the hook. Stupid, but easy. They could go back to ignoring their feelings, except Xander had never really been one for self-deception. Stupidity and blindness, sure, but self-deception reminded him of his father, and that was not a path he wanted to walk.

Xander leaned forward. "Angel, as much as I was terrified of being called gay because gay and in high school is a very unsafe place to be, I never thought being gay was hell-bound freaky evil. I've seen evil. Gay is not it... unless you're talking Spike, and his evil isn't really coming from any gayness he might have."

"Xander...." Xander waited for something more, but Angel stopped there. He stopped and sighed and stared at Xander with demon goo dripping from his shirt.

"Okay, lay off the heavy sighs for lent or something," Xander suggested. "Look, I know when I'm doing wrong. Like that first night when you walked me home and I called you a pedophile—that was wrong."

Angel took several fast steps forward, but he stopped short of sitting next to Xander, which was probably good for the upholstery. "You were completely ethical that night. Even if Blair's right that my attraction wasn't technically pedophilia, you were right that I was out of line."

"Well, yeah, you were so totally out of line. I mean, you're two hundred and something, and you didn't even give her a chance to grow up and find herself before you're sweeping in like Errol Finn."

"Flynn."

"Unpointlike, Angel." Xander glared up, but Angel was too busy looking everywhere else to notice. "My point is that yeah, you were being a little stalker-creepy, and if I had come up to you because I was bothered by your stalker-creepiness, I would have been totally on the side of doing good. I didn't. I would have staked you if I thought I could get away with it, but I settled for making you miserable because I was angry."

Angel's gaze snapped to him, and his mouth opened, but Xander rushed on before Angel could interrupt. "Buffy got to keep her vampire boyfriend, but I had to lose my vampire best friend. I couldn't get the memory of Jesse out of my head, and it was like if I couldn't have my friend, no one else could, either."

"Xander." This time, Angel did sit down, goo and all. For a second, his hand hovered over Xander's knee like he couldn't decide whether or not he was allowed to touch. But then he rested his palm against Xander's thigh. "I wish I could have saved you from that memory."

Xander shrugged. It was an old memory and a dull pain, although it never totally vanished. "Even when I was torturing you because I wanted to torture you, as opposed to later when I discovered it was kinda fun to torture you, I knew I was wrong," he admitted. "I told myself to stop. I would tell myself that it was no different than if my dad died, and so I decided to kill everyone else's dad... or torture everyone else's dad by showing up at their apartment and calling them names when they were too tongue-tied to defend themselves. And I think I lost my point in there somewhere."

"No, I think you made it," Angel said softly.

"Good because I'm way better with pithy comebacks than long speeches." Xander stopped and for a second, the hotel was freaky quiet. No guest bellowing, no Cordelia heels clicking over the tile, no Spike with his weird Britishisms shouted across the lobby. Xander gave a small smile at the evidence that their family was trying to give them space. "You know," he admitted, "that's actually why I pointed you at a priest—because I'm not good with the talking about right and wrong. I just know when I'm doing it."

The heavy silence returned. Even Angel's hand on Xander's leg was inhumanly still, and that silence seemed to soak into Xander's bones, making him almost afraid to move. It was like there was an abyss, and if someone shouted the wrong word, they'd all slide into it. When Angel spoke, his voice was little more than a whisper. "And if the priest you pointed me at tells me that this is a sin that puts your soul in danger?"

"No offense, Angel, because I know you really love your new, shiny religion, but these are people who thought eating hamburgers on Friday pissed God off. I've seen people-eating vampire and demons and girls brought back from the dead after being sacrificed to false gods. I've seen demons rebuild themselves out of computer parts and a giant snake try to eat the world. I've seen lots and lots of wrong, and I don't think God really cares about our cholesterol. "

Angel's expression had softened now—he almost had a smile on. "That's not a rule now."

"And again, not pointlike. My point is that the church has been wrong, which means the church probably is wrong on something now. The church is made of people, and people are really good at being wrong."

"Except you? You always know right from wrong?" Angel's voice might be soft, but Xander could hear the challenge in there. He rolled his eyes because Angel was so very good at getting everything wrong.

"Okay, I am officially not even close to perfect. I am way with the wrong, way too often. My head will be saying things like, 'Faith sex bad,' and my pants pretty much veto me." Xander gave Angel a sheepish grin. "My head says that after a hundred years of eating rats, you've probably earned a little rest, and yet, I kept showing up at your apartment with the sharp jab. My hate for all things vampire was definitely vetoing any thoughts of doing the right thing. My point is that I do lots of bad, but I generally know when I'm being bad."

"I want to believe you."

"And yet I'm hearing a really big 'but' in there."

Angel's gaze slipped away from Xander. He almost reached up and pulled Angel's face around, forcing Angel to look at him, but the gesture was way more intimate than Xander wanted—not until he knew he wouldn't get pushed away. "I want to believe you so much, that I'm afraid I'm lying to myself." Angel still kept staring at the wall like he expected to find the meaning of life in magical ink. "You may be good and listening to your own moral compass, but from the time I was old enough to resent my father, I lost all ability to see right and wrong. It does suggest that my father might not have been wrong about my eventual damnation."

Xander laughed—he couldn't help it. Yep, give Angel half a chance, and he really would make it all about him. Xander adored the guy, but neither one of them were in any danger of perfection. "You have guilt to an artform. Put that guilt on canvas, and we so do not have to take in boarders anymore." Xander slapped Angel's slimy leg. He then stared unhappily at the goo left smeared against his palm.

Angel sighed and looked at him.

" Oh, get off the martyr horse, Angel. So you're a big old screw up. You're kinda in a family of screw ups. And for the record... I don't know anyone who isn't a screw up. Willow's parents loved the stuffing out of her, and yet they screwed her around so backwards that she's terrified of making one mistake. Buffy's father loved her, and yet he did the big vanishing act. Faith... and I'm not even going there. There's so much screwing up going on there that I can't keep it all straight. But my point is that no one wants to screw up. We just do. I staked Jesse. I loved him like a brother, and I didn't mean to, but I did."

"You had no choice," Angel hurried to reassure him.

Xander just shook his head at how unpointlike Angel could be. "And if I hadn't staked him, I wonder what would have happened. Would I have let Jesse drain Cordelia? I don't think so, but I don't know because my love for him might have made my right-wrong button do the wonky. Me and loyalty sometimes take a few unhealthy detours, kind of like you and guilt."

"You wouldn't have let him kill her," Angel said firmly.

"Which is easy to say when I never had to face that. But here's the deal, Angel. We all screw up. Big screw ups, small screw ups, small screw ups that turn into huge city-eating screw ups. We don't know we've screwed up until the screwing has happened, and I really think I picked a bad verb for this sentence." Xander sighed. Yep, on the not-perfect side of his scale, he could add verbal incompetence. "Screwing up doesn't make us bad. And being gay isn't wrong, it's just how some people are born. I am gay. I am so totally gay. I am blissfully gay." Xander spread out his arms to show the scale of his gay-bliss. "So, you can either put your hat in the ring and try and impress me with expensive gifts or watch me...."

"Xander—" Angel strangled his name so that it came out as almost a cry.

"Nope, no discussion. You're no worse a man than anyone else, and I’m gay and definitely looking for a man, so either get with the gift giving or step aside and watch me interview prospective life partners." Xander stared at Angel, willing him to just listen for once in his over-gelled life. Slowly, the anger and frustration faded, his shoulders stooped, and something that looked like fatigue seemed to settle onto every inch of Angel.

"Gift giving?" Angel asked.

Xander could feel his cheeks ache, but it wasn't a surprise considering the size of his big, stupid smile. "Oh yeah. You can cough up the big bucks to impress me with double-paned windows and cherry paneling or you can watch me be gay with someone else."

"I buy you those things now." Angel still looked more tired than anything else, but he had a small smile going.

"Well, yeah, but now we can call them courting gifts. Because seriously, I'm more than a little interested in you, but I'm thinking I'm going to be the girl in this relationship, and if I'm the girl, I want gifts."

"Of double-paned windows?"

"Hey! Have you looked at how many windows we have around this place? Diamonds would be cheaper." Xander leaned his shoulder into Angel. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed their physical contact until just now. Even demon goo couldn't get him to give up touching again. For a minute, they just sat there. Angel's fingers tightened some on Xander's leg, and things felt right.

"Xander?"

"If you go getting your guilt on, I'm putting a red sock in with your underwear," Xander warned. Of course Angel had to ruin their perfect moment.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"And I would like to not be hurt, so that's good."

"You don't understand. I'm not a man."

"Okay... I haven't seen in your pants, but I always assumed you had man parts." Xander hoped that Angel would take a clue and just let this one go.

"I'm a vampire." So much for that hope.

"The lack of heartbeat gave that one away."

"You don't—"

"Angel," Xander cut him off before they could go for round two of the guilt. "You're a vampire. I do get what that means. Your soul may care about me, but your demon is going to do this weird ranking thing and put me in a spot where he feels like he can safely keep me. I'm big with knowing this. I'm also weirdly okay with that because you have over two hundred years of experience on me, so in issues not involving morals, I'm pretty sure you are the boss. You definitely get to set rules when throwing stars are involved, because the minute I start saying that a weapon looks easy, that is not a good sign." Xander looked up and Angel was watching him.

Angel reached over and ran a finger over the line of Xander's jaw. "If you understand my demon, then you know why this is dangerous."

Xander just looked at Angel. Yeah, he had a pretty good idea what Angel meant, but he was not even going to dignify it with an answer.

"If I'm successful in my courting, I willna let you go. I won't be able to. For a demon, to have something and to want something and to then leave that which you want..." Angel stopped, his voice heavy with emotion and his pain laid out across his face, making him look so vulnerable that Xander wanted to make stupid promises.

"Hard?" Xander guessed.

Angel looked at him with haunted eyes. "I dunna know that I'd be strong enough to do it. I don't know that I'd be able to look at you and know that I couldn't have you, not without taking you anyway."

"Well, it's a good thing that I don't plan on ever telling you that."

Angel shook his head, but his hand moved to rest against Xander's neck. Demon goo smell or not, Xander's body reacted to that touch. "You can't know that. You can't know how you'll feel about a relationship with me."

"Angel, you're an idiot." Xander brought his own hand up and put it on the back of Angel's, trapping it there against Xander's neck. "I've been in a relationship with you for three years. Cordy dumped me because I was more relationshippy with you than with her. Sex doesn't make a relationship, it's just a really nice cherry on the top of the trust sundae. Really nice. Really, really—" Xander stopped "Angel, that is not a pleasant expression."

"I'm not having pleasant thoughts."

Xander fought to not smile. "Okay, if the thought of me and sex makes you that unhappy—"

"The thought of you and Spike and sex makes me that unhappy."

"Jealous?" Xander teased. There was more than one way to skin a demon.

"Yes." Angel's eyes were yellowing now.

"We could fix that."

For a second, Xander thought Angel was going to agree. He thought he was going to get scooped up and rushed to the nearest room, and he actually started gathering arguments for why they should shower first because Angel seriously stank. But then something shifted, and Angel pulled his hand back. However, as the yellow faded from his eyes, he smiled at Xander—an honest, open smile. "One month. Let's wait one month so that we know we aren't making a mistake."

"Your head is still up your ass, isn't it?" Xander sighed and shook his head sadly.

Angel rolled his eyes and got up. "I just don't want you to make a mistake."

"Too late. I already fell for a guy with his head so far up his ass that he can't see straight."

"Spike is having a bad influence on your language."

"Spike and Faith and even sometimes Blair. There are a lot of bad influences around here," Xander pointed out.

"Speaking of questionable influences, why do I smell Graham?" Angel asked as he headed for the stairs.

"I don't know how you can smell anything over your own stink." Xander followed, wondering if he was going to be able to catch a peek. A month was a really long time to wait.

"It's not my stink, and you didn't answer my question."

Xander shrugged. "Riley sent him. He's supposed to be liaison officer or go between or something. Apparently Riley's time as a vampire made him see the world in a whole new light."

That made Angel stop in the middle of the stairs. "So he gave us a soldier?"

"Yep."

"Spike is not going to be amused."

"Oh, I don't know. Spike had lots of fun scaring the pee out of him."

For a second, Angel stared at him with horror. "Does Graham know that an amused Spike is much worse than an angry one?" Angel asked.

Xander could only shrug. "If he sticks around, I think he'll find out, but that's up to you."

Angel reached out and slung an arm over Xander's shoulder. "You keep telling me that I'm in charge, but why do you always seem to get your way?"

"It's my sex appeal," Xander answered with a wide smile. "I have crazy, scary powers of the sexy." Angel just shook his head as they headed up the stairs.


	19. 19

"Graham, I am so sorry you got sucked into doing this," Xander repeated again.

"It's not your fault, Xander. I really don't mind." Graham used the broom to push a pile of cracked chicken bones out from under the bed. The broom also pushed a wide trail of slime with it. "You just have to do the jobs that come along."

"Yeah, well tyv cleanup duty is not exactly big with the fun. My guess is that you didn't go to officer school and college to clean slime." Xander scooped the mess into a dustpan and thanked god that he'd put good tile in on the third floor rooms that got the most use. As it was, the bedding was going to have to be burned. Xander made a mental note to have Cordy charge this guy more... lots more. Demon bill collecting was a touchy subject, but no one could do offended and insulted like Cordelia, and the more insulted she got, the more tribute money the demon coughed up. This guy needed to cough up a lot.

"You aren't studying construction management and practicing swordsmanship to clean slime," Graham countered. Xander leaned against the side of the stripped mattress and thought about that for a second.

He didn't generally think about the fact that he got the slimy jobs. Angel would do it if he knew it needed to be done, but Angel and housework was not only freaky but likely to lead to a large number of objects needing to be fixed. Faith was pretty much the same, and Spike would have laughed his ass off at the suggestion he touch a broom. He would have then taken the broom and broken it into a million little pieces if anyone had even suggested Cordy do the cleaning. Besides, Cordy was working her butt off even as she insisted that she was above work. Angel's new library was growing book by book, and Cordy was struggling to keep up with all the cross-referencing and the bills and the guests and the collecting of tribute and a nasty tax problem that was making her growl at Angel in ways that made Xander wonder if she didn't have a little demon blood herself. She was getting so snippy that Angel had even vetoed taking any more of Lorne's boarders for a while.

"Okay, you have a point," Xander admitted.

"This really isn't as bad as basic. Trust me; it's not nearly as bad, although the physical training is a little more demanding."

"When he's sparring, Spike sometimes forgets that humans need to breathe," Xander agreed. "And he is definitely not good on the heart. What with him jumping out from behind bushes, I nearly died about a hundred times before I graduated from high school."

Graham pulled the broom out from under the bed and leaned on the edge. "It turned you into a damn good fighter. When Riley and I first saw you fight... we thought for sure you'd had military training."

"Not so much. I was only seventeen or maybe eighteen," Xander said. He looked up and quickly quashed an urge to react as Spike crept into the room. If Graham wanted the whole experience, Xander wasn't going to get in the middle—especially not when Spike had so much fun playing with the soldier. There wasn't the hard edge like when Spike stalked Riley, but it was pretty clear that Spike considered Graham a play toy to take the edge off any boredom he might be feeling.

"Some militaries train soldiers a lot younger than we do. Several major countries let men in at seventeen or even sixteen if they have their parents' permission. Laos drafts men as young as fifteen, and when small countries get caught up in civil wars, guerilla fighters will 'recruit' fighters as young as ten or twelve." Graham made finger quotes in the air at the word 'recruit.'

"And can I just say that ignorance is my happy place because I really do not need to think about fourteen year olds fighting wars."

"You were, what, fifteen?" Graham asked.

Spike had pulled out a cigarette and had gone from looking amused to just looking aggravated. Not knowing you had an enemy at your back--or even a friendly ally who like to play with you like you were a rubber mouse at your back--that was not good. Even Xander knew that.

"Fifteen what?" Xander asked Graham. He considered letting his gaze slip up to focus on Spike, but if he did that, Spike was going to find a way to give him a wedgie, and if Angel found out, Angel was going to sit back and watch Spike give him a wedgie. Spike and Angel and even Graham were oddly united on this whole training game.

"You were fifteen when you started fighting this war against demons."

"Oh." Xander shrugged. "I didn't think of it as a war as much as a case of trying to not end up dead."

"I think that's the definition of war," Graham pointed out.

"Point."

"Exactly," Graham said. "Riley and I were both horrified at the thought of teenagers trying to fight creatures as old and powerful as Spike here." Graham poked his thumb over his shoulder. For a second, Spike was actually shocked out of reacting, but then he grabbed for Graham.

Graham rolled to the side and kicked out, aiming for Spike's middle. It wasn't a bad move... only putting any body part within arm's reach of Spike was not generally of the good. Spike's unlit cigarette fell from his mouth when Graham's foot connected with his stomach, but then Spike caught him by the ankle and twisted the foot around. The move forced Graham to flip over onto his stomach or get his leg broken, and as soon as Graham was stomach down on the floor, Spike ended the fight by sitting on him.

With one hand, Spike held Graham's ankle, and with the other, he grabbed the back of Graham's neck. Graham lay limp. "This is embarrassing. I thought I could get in at least one good hit," Graham sighed.

"Hey, it's good for my ego," Xander pointed out as he scooped more slime into his dustpan and dumped it into the trash. "I thought I was just really bad at fighting, but if the big, buff soldier guy gets his ass kicked, suddenly I'm feeling less pathetic."

"Big, buff soldier?" Spike asked, pulling Graham's leg up until Graham hissed with pain. "Careful, pet. You know vampires, they're jealous sorts."

"It was just a saying," Graham protested, his voice higher than it should be. Spike let go of his leg and patted Graham on the shoulder before he bounced up. "That hurt," Graham said softly, not even trying to get up.

"You were bloody toying with me, pretending to not see me. You got what you deserved." Spike bent over and recovered his cigarette from the floor. Spike might not smoke much anymore, but he always seemed to have one in his hand or dangling from his lips as though he was about to light it and he had just forgotten.

"I was going for a tactical advantage." Graham slowly pulled himself up, using the edge of the bed.

"How'd that work for you?" Spike asked.

"Not well."

"Right then, if we have that sorted, the priest is downstairs. Peaches called for both of ya."

Xander narrowed his eyes and glared at Spike. "If this has anything to do with gayness...." Xander let his voice trail off, but he hoped that it was pretty clear he was willing to kill the messenger on this issue.

"It if does, I promise to eat the priest, and you can get a bloody calf puller and yank Angel's head out his oversized arse," Spike assured him. "Now move your arses. I don't want to be stuck in a bloody meeting when there's fun to be had and killing to be done." Spike turned and was out of the room faster than either of the humans could answer.

"I really hope he's killing bad guys," Graham said. Sitting on the side of the bed, he massaged his knee.

"I'm pretty sure he is. Cordy would eviscerate him if he did anything too stupid. So, are you sorry you agreed to Angel's terms yet?" Xander asked. Graham had been almost too quick to agree to sever all ties with Sunnydale and the army and allow Angel to approve any of the reports he sent back to Washington describing various non-combatant demons.

"Not really. An army needs intel, and intel requires a scout," Graham answered. "And we need to get down there before Spike loses his patience and decides to eat Father Peter on the principle of it."

"Or Faith glares him to death," Xander agreed. Their clan was an odd sort of family, but they were family, and everyone except for Angel had come to the conclusion that Father Peter was a "them" and not an "us." It was kind of strange having everyone get so upset on his behalf, but Xander had to admit he was selfish enough to enjoy it.

Downstairs, everyone seemed to have gathered in the sitting room, and not only was Father Peter there, but Doyle was there with a pretty woman who had a long nose and curly blonde hair. Xander smiled as he watched Faith shift. Up until now she'd been laying on the small sofa, but now she put her feet on the ground, freeing up a place for someone to sit, and Xander really didn't have any illusions about who she was hoping would sit there. Graham was a nice looking man, a little clichéd with his dimpled chin and muscles and bright blue eyes, but cute. Xander with his new-minted gayness could admit that.

"Are we waiting for Blair?" Father Peter asked. He didn't comment at all as Xander gave him a nice long look before sitting so close to Angel that he was almost in Angel's lap. Of course, the fact that Angel was in the oversized chair and there really wasn't room also might have something to do with the near lap sitting. Angel glanced over and Xander almost thought he saw a smile.

"Blair had to go home. He has classes he needs to not fail." Angel put a hand on Xander's knee.

Looking around, Xander realized that they were all finally paired up. Faith was stiff and still awkward around Graham, but Xander really didn't have any doubts about her interest. She wasn't exactly showing it the same way, but it was there. And Graham was going out of his way to do little things like pick her up her favorite soda when he went out on a grocery run. Hopefully that was Graham being interested and not just Graham feeling guilty because he'd figured out her earlier case of sleeping with him came from a psychologically unhealthy place. If it was Graham-guilt, things were going to get weird.

Spike was sprawled out, his boots propped up on the edge of the table, and Cordy was filing her nails. But her one foot rested against Spike's thigh as she marked her territory. Spike was the one sprawling, but somehow Cordy still managed to look very queenlike as she glanced up and looked around the room with that indifference she'd been practicing since she was twelve. Of course, anyone who knew her, knew that she threw herself into fights two seconds after insisting that it was all beneath her. It was just all part of Cordy's charm.

And now he and Angel were definitely heading for couplesville. Angel's hand comfortably rested on Xander's leg and the chair was big enough for both of them, but only if they were squashed together way too close for casual friends. Xander shifted around, trying to find a more comfortable spot. This time he could see the edges of a smile pulling at the sides of Angel's mouth.

"So, what is the emergency?" Angel asked.

"And it better not be a gay emergency," Xander whispered. Angel tightened his fingers into Xander's knee. "Just saying," Xander defended himself. Angel gave an exaggerated sigh, and Spike chuckled.

"There's no gay emergency, Xander," Father Peter said. At least the priest wasn't laughing at him, which was more than he could say about Spike and Angel.

"Good, because I'm not giving up the gay," Xander said firmly. Yeah, he was being less than subtle, but he and subtle were not exactly friends.

"I had gotten that impression," Father Peter said. Xander narrowed his eyes because Father Peter was sounding suspiciously amused. It was one thing for Spike and Angel to laugh at him, but he was not taking that from a priest.

"And you aren't going to go off on hell and sin? You aren't going to pull the big silent treatment?"

Father Peter's expression turned serious. "Xander, if I only talked to people who didn't sin, I'd have a pretty limited life. I wouldn't even be able to talk to myself, because none of us is perfect. You're still welcome at church, although I would prefer it if you didn't sit in Angel's lap during the service." Xander opened his mouth, but Angel's hand tightened on his knee again. Xander harrumphed, but he closed his mouth.

"Doyle, why don't you explain what happened."

"I should go check on them," the woman with the long nose said.

"Thanks, Harry," Doyle said, and from the way he looked at the woman, Xander was guessing he wasn't the only one who was newly paired up or newly frustrated about wanting to pair up, maybe. Doyle looked at the woman like she was the last glass of water in the desert. If this was the demon-expert Harry that Blair had lustful thoughts about, Xander was guessing Blair had just lost his chance at her. For someone who had just broken up with her fiancé, she was looking at Doyle with a whole lot of semi-appropriate fondness.

"Food's in kitchen, last door in the hall behind the check-in counter," Cordy offered. "We feed all kinds of demons, so there should be something in there that Listers like." Harry nodded and left.

"We have guests?" Xander asked. He'd been fairly sure that Angel had closed the hotel due to general grumpiness.

"More like refugees," Cordelia answered. "And if we can find the idiots who chased them out of their homes, I'm charging them our top rates for every room the Listers use," she said, poking her fingernail file at Angel.

"Princess," Doyle interrupted, "the Scourge is not interested in you balancing your books."

"Like I care what they want. And that is officially a stupid name. Who calls themselves the Scourge?" Angel and Spike both looked over at her, and for a second the room was quiet. By the time Faith cleared her throat, Xander was trying really hard to not laugh. "What?" Cordelia asked. She looked from Angel to Spike and then she rolled her eyes. "Oh please, that was in your tacky days. Besides, Darla must have picked the name. All style, no substance."

"I take it I'm missing something?" Graham looked around.

"Don't you know it," Faith offered. "These two were one-half of the Scourge of Europe back when they were down with their bad selves. I'm just wondering, who are these guys who've picked up the name?"

"They're bad news," Doyle said seriously. "Last time I ran into them... it wasn't pretty." Doyle leaned forward and hung his head.

"That wasn't your fault." Father Peter reached over and rested a comforting hand on Doyle's back.

"No, who should I blame? I refused to help people because I could pass for human, because I was too freaked out about finding out about my demon blood."

"None of us is perfect, and if you had gotten involved, you probably would have died, too." Father Peter looked around the room at all of them, and Xander noticed that the tension had risen dramatically. Spike was always the best barometer for how the group was feeling, and he was deadly still. "They're fanatics. They believe that all humans and part-human demons should die."

"Hate to point this out, mate, but most full demons feel that way," Spike offered, but he still had that unnatural calm that made Xander itch to get a weapon in his hands.

"This isn't some demon who just cuts the head off any half-breed he finds." Doyle looked up, and Xander could see the fear and the guilt across the man's face. It was a little freaky. "They're an army of pureblooded demons. They have a big hate-on for us mixed heritage types. Very into pedigree. They hunt us down like animals."

"So, we hunt them back," Cordelia said. She frowned and looked over at Angel for some sort of agreement, but Xander could feel how inhumanly still Angel had gone. "Demons make trouble, and we kill them. That's the deal, right?" When Angel didn't answer, Cordelia sat up a little straighter.

Faith pulled out her knife in a not-so-subtle indicator of where she was on the issue. "I'm five by five with the killing plan. Those families who came running here for sanctuary—they have kids. I'll be damned if I let some fucking army hunt down kids in our city."

"It's not that easy." Doyle looked around. "They're fanatics. Nothing you do will stop them. If you kill a hundred of them, they'll just call for more. They'll die for their cause. They're death." Doyle stopped, and Xander could feel the cold run down his back. He didn't care how big a demon got, a demon was still just a demon. It had a weakness. But an army of fanatic demons was sounding slightly more freaksome.

Obviously, Xander wasn't the only one concerned. Angel's hand tightened on Xander's leg until Xander poked him with an elbow. Then Angel cringed and eased up on the squeezing. Everyone was looking at Angel, and for the first time, Xander actually pitied the vamp. He would not want to be the one with this bomb dropped in his lap.

Angel nodded thoughtfully. "We need to know what they're up to. If this is an organized army, it's something we haven't fought before. I could go in undercover—"

"You're right 'round the twist there, aren't you?" Spike demanded. "Did you miss the part where they hate us?"

"I can tell them that I want to be like them, that I hate half-breeds," Angel snarled back, and that was an actual snarl. "I'll get them to give me information."

"They won't tell you anything because you are a half-breed." Spike leaped to his feet. "You even fucking try this shite, and I'll knock you tits over arse." Angel stood, his body angled for battle.

Faith was the next one up. "Hey, let's just chill." Faith raised her hands, but both vampires were pretty much ignoring her.

"Have you forgotten who's the better vampire, here?" Angel demanded as he took a predatory step toward Spike.

"I bloody know who's the stupid vampire here if you try this."

Angel reached out and grabbed for Spike's throat. Xander jumped up and grabbed at Angel's shirt, pulling him back. Or trying to pull him back, anyway. Angel was not big with going along on that plan and Xander felt a little bit like that cartoon of the little tiny dog playing tug of war with the great big dog—only the big dog didn't notice that the little dog was even there.

Then Cordelia was on her feet, looking at them without getting involved, but weirdly, it was Graham who actually put his hand between the two snarling vampire faces. For half a second, Xander really thought one of them was going to eat Graham, which would probably not be all that helpful. Spike would lose his toy, and Angel would be guilting for about a century.

"What?" Angel snapped. Dropping Spike, he backed up a step. Before Xander realized Angel had even moved, he found himself pulled close to Angel's side—not that he minded.

Graham was strangely calm in the face of all the growling. "This is an organized army, right? We need intel, information on targets, weapons, leadership—right?"

"Sounds about right," Spike answered when Angel just kept glaring.

"You have access to those things. Riley would come in a second if you called for backup." Graham looked from Angel to Spike and back, clearly waiting.

"It's a lot better than some suicide plan," Cordelia agreed after a few long seconds of silence.

Faith was the next to jump in. "As long as I'm in on the final beat-down, I don't mind having the soldier boys do a little of the footwork for us."

Angel and Spike stared at each other. "Peaches?" Spike asked.

Angel's eyes narrowed. "Call me that again, and you'll be healing for a week," Angel threatened him. Spike was weird though, because the threat just made him smile. "Call Finn. If the Scourge has an army, we'll answer with an army of our own."

"I'm on it," Graham agreed, taking a quick step toward the door.

"No!" Angel said the word sharply enough to stop Graham in his tracks. "Xander can call."

Xander blinked in surprise. Angel had been holding on tightly, but now Angel let go and gave him a small push. "Doyle can give you any details. Riley's people can stay at the hotel as long as they know that the Lister refugees are under my protection. Got it?"

"Um, got it," Xander agreed. "Hey, maybe I should go call now. Graham, you can give me the number," Xander said with false cheerfulness. The room had gotten way too cranky, and it was probably good for all humans to get out of the path of cranky vampires.

"Cordelia can look up Finn's number," Angel interrupted. "Graham and I can go over some tactical details. Faith, why don't you walk Father Peter home?"

Xander traded half panicked looks with Cordelia and Faith. He was hoping at least one of the girls would back him up about being a little freaked out about leaving Graham behind. Sticking yourself in the middle of a Spike and Angel smack-down was up there with castrating yourself with a melon baller, so Xander hadn't actually tried it, but he was guessing it was not good. However, neither of the girls looked interested in getting involved.

"You got it, A. So, Father Peter, just to let you know, if you lecture me, I might drop you in a gutter," Faith warned him as she started toward the door.

Father Peter looked a little confused as he stood up. "I don't actually lecture people. I talk to people who ask me for my opinions on the scripture."

"Oh." Faith frowned at Angel for a second. "Just don't go looking for me to ask. Come on, let's get you home."

Cordelia pulled on Doyle's arm. "We need to call Riley, and if Buffy's crew is staying here, they're paying full rates. This is not a flop house. Oh, and the Listers are in our best rooms, so the Army will have to make do with the fourth floor. I wonder if we can get them to pay for their rooms and the Listers'..." Cordelia headed out the door, towing Doyle behind her.

"Wait... who are we calling?" Doyle was asking her as she dragged him out.

"Angel," Xander started to say.

Angel turned around, his brown eyes looking down at Xander. Slowly, Angel brought his hand up and cupped the side of Xander's face. "A mhuirnín," he said softly, "go call Buffy and Riley."

For a second, Xander thought about arguing or pointing out that Graham hadn't meant to get in the middle or defending the guy. Then Xander thought about how it had felt when Buffy defended him, and that was not a good feeling. It was like someone didn't trust you enough to not get your ass kicked by the school bully. True, they weren't in school, and Spike was way better at bullying than Larry had ever dreamed of being, but... Xander glanced over at Graham... he was kinda big enough to take care of his own problems. It wasn't like they were going to eat him. Probably. Almost certainly.

"I am not explaining this to Buffy," Xander settled for saying. "You know how she is about defending demons, and Giles has a stick the size of a baseball bat up there when people mention good demons. If either one of them is on the phone, I'm going to make you talk to them," Xander settled on saying.

Angel slowly smiled. "You can handle one little slayer and her watcher," he said without much sympathy. "Go on."

Xander headed out of the room shaking his head. "I'm not cleaning up after her, either. You'd better be prepared to have a maid service in." Out in the hallway, Xander chewed his lip and watched Angel close the door. Yep, he had been officially uninvited to that little meeting, which usually meant Angel was doing something vampy that Xander didn't want to see... or that Angel thought Xander didn't want to see. Vampires—they were giant pains in the ass.


	20. 20

Angel closed the door. If the Sunnydale clan were coming, they had to get certain loyalties settled, and that was not something he wanted Xander to witness. When he turned around, Graham had gone to parade rest. He smelled of anxiety, but not fear. And that was not necessarily a good thing. If Graham was afraid, Angel could get a little truth easily, but a confident Graham might be a little too cautious with his words.

Angel went back to the chair and sat, the lingering remnants of Xander's heat soaking into his leg. Spike looked at him, and Angel gave a nod so small that a human couldn't have seen it.

"If I overstepped my bounds, I apologize. I didn't mean to get in the middle."

"Sure you did, mate. Your hand didn't just float up in front of my face on its own." Spike sounded friendly as he slowly circled, and now Graham had the good sense to smell of fear.

"I should have waited. I was wrong." Graham was stiff, his body as still as a human could get.

"You don't actually believe that," Angel said. "You believe that bringing Finn's unit here is the best chance to find and defeat the Scourge."

This time, Graham didn't answer.

"That right?" Spike asked, giving Graham's shoulder a push. Graham rocked forward, but he moved back into his military stance.

"Yes, I do. If they're an army, Riley has the experience to deal with armies. But I also know that you have a lot more experience with demons, so if you tell me I'm wrong, I'll believe you."

For several minutes, Angel didn't comment on that. He watched while Spike stalked the room, his predatory attention never straying from Graham. With every passing minute, Graham's scent turned more and more sharp with the spiced smell of fear, but he continued to stand silent.

The chair had cooled, Xander's heat had finally dissipated, and Angel stood. Graham's eyes flicked toward him before returning to that same straight-ahead gaze that Angel had seen in so many army movies Xander had inflicted on him. The pose might be called 'at ease,' but there was no ease in this room.

Angel moved to a point in front and just to the side of Graham. It meant that Graham could see him out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn't focus on him. The position was intended to unsettle Graham, and from the sharp burst of fear in the air, it had worked.

"Why do you want to call in the Sunnydale group?" Angel asked, leaning in so close that he could feel the heat of Graham's body.

"I think Riley is trained to deal with an enemy organized into an army," Graham's voice was steady, but the tone betrayed his fear. Angel traded looks with Spike. Spike moved in behind Graham, his hand coming up to caress the side of Graham's neck in a gesture that Xander would have called affectionate. Angel knew better—it was a possessive gesture, one that a minion would have taken as a reminder that he owed his life and his allegiance to the master of the clan. But Graham wasn't a minion, and that was part of the problem. Angel still wasn't entirely sure where Graham's loyalties lay, and if Buffy and Riley were coming here, he needed to know.

"Any other reason?" Angel asked. Spike's fingers tightened slightly on Graham's neck. Now Angel could see islands of white around each of Spike's painted black nails as Graham's flesh yielded to him.

"No." Graham's eyes darted over to Angel again, and this time there seemed to be an honest confusion in that expression. Then Graham turned his eyes back to the front.

Turning his back, Angel walked to the ornate fireplace and stared at the wood surround. Xander had stripped the layers of paint and stain, exposing the bare wood with all the intricate carvings and scroll things. Angel ran his hand over the warm wood. "It does seem like the military and a vampire clan run by pretty similar rules. You obey the commanders, do your job, and show loyalty." Angel considered that for a moment. "Well, obeying and doing the job are the same. Some vampires are more loyal than others."

Angel could hear Spike scenting Graham loudly enough that even Graham with his human hearing had to be aware.

"But if this were a true vampire clan, and a minion from another clan came to me, asking to be part of my clan, I would make some assumptions."

"Like the git got tossed out on his ear and he needs some place to hide before he gets staked," Spike offered.

Angel shrugged and then turned around. "Maybe. Maybe I would assume that his clan leader had done something monumentally stupid and he didn't want to be around for the fallout. Maybe I would think that this new minion was still loyal to his old clan, and he was coming to spy. I might think a lot of things."

"I'd just bloody think the git had no loyalty in him, and I'd stake him," Spike offered cheerfully.

"I don't think that's the case here," Angel said as he moved back toward the middle of the room.

"Probably not," Spike agreed.

Graham swallowed several times before he spoke. "I told you, the generals in Washington wanted a source of information on demons other than the Watchers' library Giles has."

Spike let go of Graham and moved around to the front where he held his hand up, pantomiming his use of a phone. "Oi, need some intel on demons, so fax me somethin', got it?" Spike pantomimed hanging the phone up. Of course, if Spike called someone for information, that probably was how the conversation would go.

"Riley thought it would facilitate communication between the groups," Graham offered, but the scent of fear was hanging heavy in the air.

"Yet you allow every communication to go through me," Angel pointed out. "There's no more communication now than before."

Spike moved in, running a finger down Graham's cheek, and Angel could feel the shifting emotions. A part of him remembered this... remembered watching a human for every little twitch and tell that revealed its inner thoughts... remembered watching humans break. Graham was nowhere near breaking, but a sizable stress fracture was about to open up, and Angel could feel his own anticipation growing.

"So, do you think our little soldier is playing spy?" Spike asked. He had pulled his lips together into that tight smile so unique to Spike. Graham swallowed several times.

"I have from the beginning. I just never worried about it." Angel walked to a spot behind Graham. Now he could see Graham's hands. His hands were tightly clenched, something which Angel was guessing violated his military training. Breathing deeply, Angel scented the fear and the sweat and the smell of Spike's arousal. Angel ran his own hand over the curve of Graham's neck and watched as Spike's eyes yellowed. So close—Graham was so close. "I allowed you to spy," Angel whispered in Graham's ear, "because I knew you didn't have the power to harm my clan. But now you want to bring Riley into my house."

Graham started trembling. It wasn't anything that a human would notice, but Angel could see the slightest tremors in his legs. Spike did too because he moved in. Now Graham was caught between them.

"Right then," Spike said cheerfully, reaching up to wrap his fingers around the back of Graham's neck, his thumb across the front. In less than a second, Spike could snap Graham's neck, and the soldier probably knew it. "Explain what made you leave your nice safe world of soldier boys and university classes. Explain so I believe it, pet."

"I... I never spied." Graham's voice rasped. Angel wasn't sure whether Spike's thumb across his larynx or his dry mouth caused it, but words were definitely not coming easily. If Graham had broken, even if he had only suffered that first crack that opened his soul, the words would fall from him. They'd be a twisted mass of truth and lies, desperation and fear and hope. However, words would come easily. Clearly, Angel had not found the right lever.

"Convince me you aren't a spy; convince me I don't have to start planning for a war against your government," Angel urged him in a voice that he rarely used anymore. The smooth tones had lured more women to their deaths than Angel cared to remember, but to keep his clan and his Xander safe, he would use any of the many weapons he possessed.

"What? No, you don't have enemies in the government." Graham tried to turn, but Angel grabbed his arms and easily held him in place. That forced Graham to turn to Spike and make his argument. "The general read the reports on what Angel did in World War II; he said both of you helped to bring in a sub. Getting our hands on that technology saved thousands of soldiers, and he didn't believe that Angel got involved because he was forced. Angel's a centuries old vampire, and the soldiers, the Demon Research Initiative, they didn't know what they were doing." Now the words spilled out. Angel breathed deeply, the terror making him feel nearly drunk.

"None of you know what the bloody hell you're doing," Spike pointed out. He leaned in toward Graham and his delicious smell of fear.

"I know that. I'm not trying to spy. I want to make this work because I know the advantages you bring to the table. I'm not spying. I swear I'm not spying."

Angel had no doubt he was getting the truth now. The words and the fright fell from Graham like apples rolling from the top of an overloaded bushel.

"Why did you leave Riley?" Angel whispered.

"I didn't have a choice." Graham sounded desperate now, and Angel had to truly hold him still as Graham fought against Angel's grip. "He told me that I was making things more difficult—that I had to toe the line or transfer out."

Angel looked at Spike in shock. Riley and Graham had been the two who had been closest.

"Explain what happened, pet," Spike urged him. He moved his hand so that he was no longer gripping Graham's throat, but instead he rested his palm against Graham's chest, directly over the heart. With the little bit of freedom he now had, Graham looked over his shoulder at Angel, and the man was closer to breaking than Angel had thought. A small part of him reveled in his ability to rip a human apart, but a larger part was bothered by the sudden vulnerability he could see there.

Angel let go of Graham's arms and walked to his side. Reaching up, he put a hand on the soldier's shoulder, the way two men might do. It was a gesture that Graham would understand. "You came here because you trusted us to make a better decision, but then you withheld information so that we were forced into a conclusion that wasn't accurate. If you trust us, you have to give us your loyalty." Angel watched Graham; he could see the man gathering up his emotional reserves and patching the spider's web of cracks in his psyche.

"It..." Graham stopped. He closed his eyes and weighed his words. Angel knew with one push, he could finish this job and break Graham. Whatever had happened in Sunnydale, it had already started the process. Instead, Angel jerked his head in Spike's direction. Spike backed off and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. They both waited while Graham sorted his own thoughts.

When Graham opened his eyes again, Angel just watched as Graham slowly backed up and sank onto the couch he had recently shared with Faith. He looked exhausted.

"I don't want to share intel that could get someone killed," he admitted quietly. Angel had to contain his smile. Clearly Graham had chosen his side because he had just given them his greatest fear and his most vulnerable weakness. Angel gave a tiny nod to Spike.

"Mate," Spike said, casually strolling over to the couch and sitting next to Graham, "I've put up with a lot of shite without killing. Bloody hell, I found you fucking Faith when I didn't know you from a hole in the ground, and I was ready to kill you over that, and I didn't."

Graham looked over. "I didn't understand."

"Wot? That she's not as unbreakable as she pretends or that you didn't have a bloody right to go mucking with clan without being clan?"

"Either," Graham admitted, but there was a little hint of humor in his voice.

"Graham, we are not going to randomly kill. We'll only kill if there truly isn't another way because killing generally only leads to feuds and more death. You know I won't put Xander in the middle of that." Angel sat in his chair and looked at Graham, waiting for the inevitable confession.

Graham's gaze slid back down to the floor. "The Initiative, the newest incarnation of that World War II Demon Research Initiative, it had an objective. Before her arrest, Maggie Walsh was working on a behavior modification chip. Sensors would detect violence, and it would punish any violence by sending an electrical shock into the vampire's brain."

Angel sat up, anger slamming into him. Spike was already in gameface, so it was probably good that Graham was so intent on studying the floor. He kept on talking.

"Dr. Walsh thought she could limit the chip. When vampires feed or even hurt humans, it activates the ventral striatum, a part of the brain that reacts when a basic need is satisfied. Fighting demons doesn't activate the same brain structures. Some of the Initiative scientists hoped to capture and use vampires as..." Graham swallowed nervously... "hunting dogs."

"Did they develop the chip or operate on any vampires?" Angel asked. The idea of chipped vampires disgusted him, both because of the way it would make those vampires weak and because of the unethical people who could torture a creature that way. The vampire would have an unbearably miserable life.

Graham shook his head. "She never even got the chip to work. She was arrested for illegally experimenting on us."

"Bloody lucky thing because if I'd found out about her plans, I would have tortured her until she crawled over glass for the right to soddin' die." Spike snarled the words. Graham shrunk in on himself, but he didn't defend his former boss. Angel moved to sit on the arm of the couch, resting a reassuring hand on Graham's shoulder.

"This is old news, Graham. How did this cause you and Riley to fight? How did this get you exiled from your clan?" Angel intentionally used words that would remind Graham that he wasn't part of the Sunnydale group anymore. They had thrown him out and Angel had taken him in.

Graham took a deep breath. "Some of the soldiers mentioned this to Giles and Buffy. Giles and Willow and Jenny started discussing the possibility of a magical version of the chip, but Buffy eventually vetoed it."

"To use, how?" Spike asked. He was furious, Angel could tell from his lack of emotion.

Graham slowly turned his head to the side and looked at Spike. "They talked about a targeted spell, something that would disable a vampire's ability to fight right before the men moved in. They also talked about bombs... magical bombs that would saturate an area with the spell and vampires who wandered through the area during the bomb's active period would be magically chipped."

"Bloody fucking wankers." Spike was up and pacing, and if Giles, Jenny, or Willow were in the room right now, Angel was guessing he would have to physically defend them from a very pissed off Spike. "They give any thought to the fact that we're vampires?"

Graham nodded. "Riley said that once we created the weapon, we couldn't keep it absolutely secure. You two would be vulnerable, but so would the other vampires the government has been watching."

"Other vampires?" Angel demanded.

"Some vampires seem to be more human than most—a couple in Toronto, one in Louisiana, a pair in Singapore... Riley pointed out that creating a weapon that could disable a vampire would pose a danger to all of you, and since we had an alliance with you and Spike, we shouldn't do it. He also had tactical objections."

"Such as?" Angel prompted him. He kept his own emotions tightly controlled. Clearly Graham already knew the Initiative was on thin ice with him, and further threats weren't likely to make him talk more.

"There was no way to know if the weapon worked before the battle, so it would make planning difficult. Even more than that, it targeted a part of the brain humans use, so if the spell went wrong, it could end up disabling or destroying humans instead."

"Oh, it would bloody go wrong. Mojo always does," Spike said.

"If Riley opposed the spell, did that mean you approved of it?" Angel asked, not liking where this was going.

"No!" Graham looked at him with alarm. "Vampires are not a major threat... vampires on the hellmouth... minions. Minions are not a major threat and that sort of firepower is inappropriate for the threat-level."

Spike looked amused at Graham's attempts to backtrack after calling vampires harmless. Angel was a little more interested in getting more information.

"You and Riley opposed the spells and Buffy vetoed it, why did this cause a problem?" Angel tightened his grip on Graham's shoulder.

"I told Riley that I wasn't comfortable with how things were. Buffy only vetoed the planned spell after Jenny Giles admitted that it might affect humans. Buffy has a blind spot when it comes to people. The Initiative has arrested everything from a man making magical beer to devolve college students to a mage trying to capture the energy of the hellmouth. But in every case, Buffy attempted to interfere with the capture because she isn't comfortable admitting that humans are just as dangerous as demons."

"Buffy's always had that blindspot," Angel admitted. She wasn't the only one. The Order of Teraka, the most feared assassins and bounty hunters in three dimensions, hired humans for that very reason—people tended to see humans as generally good and overwhelmingly harmless.

Graham rubbed both hands over his face and leaned back against the couch. "I told Riley that I didn't trust Jenny or Willow. Several times, they seemed to stop talking when I came near, and when I brought the subject up with Tara, she blushed and couldn't look me in the eye. I think Tara knows those two are in danger of going off the deep end, but she loves Willow. And Buffy is so blind to any sort of danger posed by a human that she can't evaluate the potential danger."

"You told Riley this," Angel said.

"Yeah."

Angel looked at Spike. This explained a lot—like why they'd inherited Graham. Angel was guessing that Riley had given him the choice of shutting up or leaving.

"Spike, call Lorne. We're going to go see the Transuding Furies and make sure we're safe from any cast spells."

"That'll cost a pretty penny," Spike pointed out.

Angel cringed. The treasure they'd raided in Sunnydale was not lasting nearly as long as Angel had hoped. Between the hotel remodeling and the cost of weapons and charms and books, they were going to have to either open the hotel for a lot more guests or he and Spike were going to need to find another treasure to steal.

"We'll figure that out later," Angel promised. "Right now, we need that protective spell."

"On it," Spike agreed as he headed out the door.

Angel looked down at Graham. The man looked absolutely miserable. "So, should I pack my stuff?" he asked, weariness clinging to his every move and word.

"You're part of my clan, Graham. You leave, and you'd just piss me off by making me find you," Angel answered. "I need you to keep close to Xander. His blind spot is just about as big as Buffy's when it comes to Willow. He loves her too much to have any good judgment around her, so if you see anything that makes you nervous, you come to me."

Angel turned around to leave, but Graham called out his name. Angel stood at the door and looked back at the man.

"You're good at breaking a person," he said softly.

Angel studied the soldier. This was a man who'd studied capture and interrogation and the psychology of breaking. "You didn't break, Graham. That would have taken a lot longer and you wouldn't have enjoyed it nearly as much. You just chose a side." With that, Angel headed out to the newly set-up library. He had very little time to prepare for a visit from the Sunnydale clan, and he was suddenly far less comfortable with the thought of Jenny Giles or Willow Rosenberg in his hotel.


	21. 21

"Willow! Buffy!" Xander called out as the first of the Sunnydale clan walked through the front doors of the Hyperion Hotel. He threw himself forward, his arms out. Both girls returned his embrace enthusiastically. Angel was a little more cautious, and he noticed that the rest of his clan was equally reticent. Cordelia was sitting on the counter, leaning against the computer monitor and pretending to file a nail. In the corner, Spike was sharpening a sword, and the sharpening stone never paused as it shushed over the steel. Graham stood near the bottom of the stairs trading nods with the soldiers who trailed in behind Buffy and Riley and Willow, and Faith stood on the second story balcony, watching the scene with a detached caution.

"I'm feeling one with my inner jealousy, Xander," Buffy said with a whistle as she looked around. "I'm on the dirty, fuzzy end of the lollipop when it comes to cool lairs. I get a dorm room; an underground bunker done in white, white, and more white; and a frat house that smells like beer."

"Our place isn't that bad," Riley said, holding out a hand to Xander.

"Yes, yes it is." Buffy gave Riley an amused look as he shook hands with Xander.

"Most of us are coming straight off bases. We appreciate an order to relax the regs and look like good old fashioned college students," he laughed.

"Hey, I'll give you the penny tour if you want. I'm halfway through remodeling the fourth floor, and I have plans for a couple of suites up there that will knock your socks off," Xander interrupted. His face was lit with happiness. Angel just tried to not think about the money his future remodeling plans would cost, but from the withering look Cordelia gave him, he was not going to get to live in blissful ignorance for long.

Cordelia put her nail file down and hopped off the counter. "Speaking of penny tours, the rooms are $129 a night, due up front. So, how many rooms will you be needing?"

Buffy turned toward Cordelia. "You're really charging us? You called us for help, remember?"

"Then feel free to use the Downtown Sheraton as your base of operations while you do the helping. I can call ahead and check on their policy for carrying in heavy weaponry, if you like," Cordelia offered with a smile that wasn't anywhere close to nice.

Xander cringed. "Oh the high school memories this brings back," he said. "No wonder I went running and screaming away from the scarier gender."

"You what?" Buffy stared at him.

"My foot just had a close encounter of the mouth kind, didn't it?" Xander asked.

"Really?" Willow stepped forward, and for the first time, Angel noticed the shy woman who followed in her shadow. "You're gay?" She squealed the words, and just as she said them, Giles walked in, his gypsy wife at his side. Angel wasn't surprised when Giles' gaze immediately settled on him. "Why didn't you tell me?" Willow demanded.

"Hey, what about you getting your gay on? I did not get the memo on that." Xander held his hand out to the woman standing behind Willow. "Xander Harris, at your service," he offered with a flourish. The woman blushed and retreated a half step even as she took his hand.

"Tara Maclay."

Buffy shook her head. "Okay, not to sound totally offensive, but did everyone drink gay water?"

"Oh yeah, that doesn't sound offensive at all," Cordelia said as she rolled her eyes. "Hey, you! Oh no." Cordelia stormed across the lobby and planted herself in front of two soldiers who were trying to pull a cart of equipment in through the doors. A wheel was caught on the doorjamb. "Only guests are allowed to go crapping up our lobby, and no one has paid yet."

"I have a credit card." Riley stepped forward and pulled his wallet out. "I'm authorized for 14 rooms, but I'm sorry; I'm capped at $99 a night. Government rules." He gave an apologetic shrug as he held the card out toward Cordelia. For a second, she stood with her arms crossed. Angel watched curiously. He knew he had a poor understanding of money at best, but the payment sounded fair to him. Then again, he had accepted a tribute of $50 after a ronath had eaten one of their beds, and according to Cordelia, that had not been anywhere near the replacement cost.

"Fine. Fourteen rooms, and if someone so much as parks a luggage cart outside of a fifteenth room, I'm having Spike steal someone's credit card and charging it." She plucked the card from Riley's hand and headed behind the desk.

"And welcome to the Hyperion, where the staff is always..." Xander waved a hand in Cordelia's direction before slipping his arm around Willow. Even Angel had to admit that Cordelia wasn't easily described.

Cordelia looked up. "We have a wonderful suite on the third floor—marble bathroom, spa bathtub, and California king bed with these imported Egyptian cotton sheets plus a separate sitting room with an oversized television, top of the line stereo, and stunning decor. Actually, it's a lot like the room I sleep in every night, not quite as nice, but close. If anyone is classy enough to want the suite, it might be available."

"Buffy?" Riley asked.

"For $300 a night," Cordelia added.

Riley choked. "I think that's a little rich for us. The army doesn't pay that well."

Normally, Angel allowed Cordelia to run the finances; however, he needed to make sure that the two groups didn't become too acrimonious. After all, if there were elements of the Sunnydale clan that were plotting against him, he needed to make sure that Buffy and the soldiers were on his side. And that meant that he was going to play good vampire to Cordelia's bad human. Part of Angel appreciated the irony of this version of good cop, bad cop. A hundred years ago, he would have slowly shredded the skin from anyone who suggested that a human could intimidate an enemy more effectively than he could, and now he was ceding that field to Cordelia.

"Cordelia, Buffy is the head of her own clan. I think we can put her up in the good suite." Angel stepped forward.

"Yeah, Cordelia, I'm the head of my clan," Buffy seconded. Angel cringed because Cordelia was going to make him pay for that, but it was still worth it. He walked up to the counter and studied the gathering group.

Jenny was the frontrunner as the source of the trouble. Willow was entirely too concerned about pleasing the authority figures in her life, and right now, Rupert and Jenny Giles were the only parental figures for her to worry about. According to Xander, her own parents had been less than thrilled about her decision to choose Wicca over Judaism, and that probably made her more vulnerable to a need for reassurance. Giles was a close second. The Watcher had never forgiven Angel after their little midnight chat. The new witch was a mystery, but Graham insisted that she would never approve of any weapon that endangered their allies, so Angel gave her a preliminary pass. The rest of the soldiers who were wandering in, gathering in small groups around their equipment, would follow Riley. And Riley would follow Buffy.

Cordelia was still glaring at him, and Angel just looked at her blandly. "Fine. If we don't pay the back taxes, I'm sure we can find a nice homeless shelter." Cordelia muttered the words so softly that only Angel could hear them. Clearly he and Spike needed to do a little treasure hunting sooner rather than later.

"Angel," Riley stepped forward, offering a nod. "I brought a demolition team," Riley gestured to three men Angel didn't know. "Two surveillance teams." This was an assorted group, including a woman old enough to be Riley's mother. "Computer and logistical support." Angel knew two of the men in the four-man team. He remembered doing patrols of the university and seeing them hunched over those strange little computers that you could close up and carry around. "And four tactical teams." Riley gestured to the largest group. These were warriors—some of whom Angel already knew. Saunders was here, the woman Spike had originally suggested Xander sleep with to solve their Anyanka problem. So were Haarde, Clark, Aaronson, Sabato and Kirkop, all of whom had trained with Spike in Sunnydale. Several more were familiar, but he didn't know them.

Xander looked around. "Um, you guys do know our rooms are way more like rooms than like a TARDIS. Fourteen rooms divided by lots and lots of you is going to make for really crowded sleeping, and the rooms are not bigger on the inside than on the outside, which is where the TARDIS reference came in for those of you who are not hopeless Dr. Who geeks."

"We don't mind close quarters," Riley assured him.

"Speak for yourself," one of the tactical team said. "Begay snores like he's trying to break the sound barrier." Several of the soldiers laughed, one aiming a punch at the arm of a Native American who flipped them all off.

Buffy was laughing with the others, leaning into Riley. It was Willow that Angel watched. Xander still had his arm around her shoulders, but the only other person really paying attention to her was Giles. He would have thought she would fit right in with the computer and logistical support team, but clearly she was isolated from the military support, and that was a problem because Buffy was clearly part of the team. The dynamics were starting to become entirely too clear. Angel looked away from the Sunnydale crew and checked his own clan. Spike just continued sharpening his sword and watching silently, and Graham had actually backed away some. Xander was the only one who seemed oblivious to the tensions running through the room. He was busy whispering in Willow's ear, and she had her hand over her mouth as she tried to not laugh.

"We have a place on the first floor where you can secure any equipment," Angel said. "Xander can show you that. And Cordelia can find you keys for your rooms. Except for Buffy's third floor room, they're all going to be on the fourth floor." Angel watched as a new face appeared next to Faith at the second story railing. From a distance, the Lister boy looked human, but the ridges around his eyes and his color would mark him as a demon the moment someone got close enough to discern more than the general outline.

"I just need to make one thing clear." Angel stepped away from the counter and faced the entire clan. Buffy frowned at him, clearly confused by his tone. The soldiers immediately quieted, and Spike even stopped, the schoop-whirl of the stone against the sword falling silent.

"Being human doesn't give a person a free pass, ethically," Angel started. He could see Giles' back stiffen. Jenny had turned her back completely and she was half-hidden by her husband, so it was difficult to judge her body language. Of course, the body language he could see didn't exactly please him. "Soldiers know this more than most humans, I think. They have to fight evil that is, more often than not, created by humans. I think I've earned the right to say that. After all, Spike and I are the only two in this room around to actually fight the Nazis."

Spike stood up and looked at the crowd. "Bloody tasty gits, even if they were five stone of crazy in a burlap bag. And their women all looked like Goebbels." Spike made a disgusted face, and Angel watched that bit of information filter through the Sunnydale crew. The soldiers had turned somber.

"You fought Nazis?" Giles asked Spike rather disbelievingly.

"SS came mucking about in my life, so I mucked up theirs a bit, yeah," Spike told him. "I'm not a bloody do-gooder. I’m not like Angel out to save the world for puppies and kittens. But there's evil that's bad enough that even I'll take a stand, and when I've seen that evil, like as not, I’m looking at a human."

Angel took another step forward, reclaiming the floor. "The whole reason why I could convince your general to investigate Dr. Walsh is because I already had a history with the army—one that included fighting the Nazis. And it turned out that Dr. Walsh was the one illegally testing on her own soldiers—turning them into guinea pigs so she would test her theories without having to worry about ethics or review boards or medical doctors who might question the long-term damage she was doing. She was keeping men alive on machines after she had carved over half their bodies away." There was an uncomfortable stir in the room.

"I saw it," Riley confirmed. "Dr. Walsh had three fallen soldiers in a secret level of the lab. They'd been butchered and machines were forcing their hearts to beat and push blood up to their brains."

"Okay, way to bring the downer," Buffy said quietly. "Angel, is there some reason for this Prozac-sucking moment?"

"Demons come here," Angel said. "Not the type of demons who want to reclaim this dimension and wipe out all human and half-breed life. The demons who come here have families and lives and jobs. They complain about their bosses and jet lag and taxes. They come to LA to meet potential mates or to have their auras read as part of their religious rites." Angel paused. He wasn't a fan of speeches, but all the soldiers needed to hear this.

Jenny stepped out from behind Giles, and he could see her distrust and her hatred like a living creature that had crawled into her skin. Angel continued, focusing on the soldiers who were listening, on Buffy as the clan leader. "These demons come here to have a quiet room where no one will judge them or try to hurt them. Right now, I have twenty Listers staying on the third floor. These are families that have been living in abandoned buildings and basements, running for their lives because they don't have any special powers and the Scourge has been exterminating them because they're peaceful enough that they've married humans and had children of mixed blood. The injured and the elderly and the sick have fallen behind and been slaughtered. Their few fighters have died trying to slow the Scourge down long enough for families to flee as the Scourge set fire to abandoned buildings to force them out. If one of you does anything to make them feel unwelcome..." Angel smiled at the group, but he didn't even try to make it a nice smile. "I will not be pleased."

"Bloody understatement, that," Spike added softly.

"Oh please," a voice called from the second floor. Angel didn't bother looking—he recognized Rieff's voice. Doyle had been trying to work with the teenager, trying to convince him to let go of some of his anger, but the Lister teen was just as resentful as ever. "Do you think they're ever going to see demons as anything but evil?" Rieff demanded. "They don't understand. None of you will ever understand. Even you vampires—you think you can imagine how I feel, but you can pass as human. You can walk around without people pointing and laughing. You're all the same. You have no idea what it's like to be me."

Rieff's running footsteps faded as the boy ran farther into the hotel. For a second, there was utter silence. Xander looked troubled, and Angel was actually relieved to see that Willow and Tara looked equally troubled. Most of the soldiers had lost all expression from their faces, but Angel knew these were battle-tested men and women who were going to hide even the strongest emotions. Angel was surprised to see that even Giles looked speechless.

"Well," one of the soldiers eventually said in the heavy silence. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was home on leave because that sounded exactly like my little brother. Sixteen is not a fun age." Several of the soldiers laughed, the dark humor cutting through the somber mood without dispelling it.

"Less fun when you have the running for your life going for you," Xander pointed out. "His job was to raid the neighborhood for food and get it back to his family so his little brothers and sisters didn't starve. And I complained bitterly about taking out the trash at his age, which is not making me feel all that good about myself." Soldiers shifted uncomfortably. Career soldiers were warriors who had a code, and Angel was relieved to see that most of them were bothered by Xander's words. Even now, as soldiers started to gather up equipment, they talked in whispers and moved slowly and quietly.

"Xander, why don't you show them the secure storage," Angel suggested, keeping his voice soft. He wanted these soldiers thinking about what they'd seen. Xander nodded and whispered something to Willow before he started moving toward the hall, gesturing for the others to follow. Giles and Jenny huddled by the door, their conversation intense, but so quiet that Angel couldn't catch even one word of it. Spike was closer, so hopefully he'd catch a word or two. "I need to get the keys," Cordelia said softly, and then she vanished into the inner office.

Eventually, Buffy wandered over to Angel's side. "Okay, that was slightly intense."

"I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings," Angel told her.

She frowned at him. "So, we get the 'humans, evil; demons, good' speech?"

For a second, Angel could only look at her. "That wasn't the speech I just gave," Angel pointed out.

Her frown deepened. "Okay, then I need to borrow someone's lecture notes because I got humans evil, demons good. Being that I'm on the human end of that syllogism, I'm not feeling all warm and fuzzy."

Closing his eyes, Angel immediately dismissed the urge to correct her vocabulary. Xander mangled words far more consistently than Buffy ever dreamed of, so he knew his urge to lecture her on logical syllogisms was just part of his general frustration with her. He also passed over the opportunity to point out that she had more than a touch of demon herself. "Buffy, the Scourge are both unforgivably evil and demons. The Nazis were evil, and they were human beings. My point was that an individual chooses to be good or evil."

"So, people being evil means that demons are out there being good? Still not buying the logic."

For a second, Angel watched as Cordelia came out of the office and started handing out keys, typing into her computer with each key that she finally relinquished. Small groups of soldiers began to wander toward the stairs and the elevator, keys in hand. Angel wondered why he thought he could do this. He did so much better with problems he could just hack at with a sword. Angel changed his approach. "Two of the most ethical men I've ever known are Xander and Oz. Both showed an incredible willingness to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. They didn't have to do the right thing, they simply chose to."

Buffy looked at him oddly.

"One is human, and one is a demon," Angel pointed out. Riley wandered over. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around Buffy's stomach and pulled her close, but he didn't comment as he watched them. Buffy smiled up at Riley for a second before focusing on Angel again.

"Um, no. Okay, I have my moments, but even I can count to two. One, two." She held up first her index finger and then her middle one. Then she put both fingers down. "Xander, Oz." Again she lifted the index finger and then the middle one. "Human, human." Two more fingers. Then she frowned. "Okay, so human 27 days out of thirty, but that's a majority, and the majority rules."

"A werewolf is a demon, Buffy," Angel said, wondering just what Giles had taught her. "If you read any of the demonology books, you'll find them listed along with vampires as blood-borne manifestations of demons into human bodies. I can show you if you want."

"That makes it sound icky. He just got teethed on by a toddler, not mauled. And vampires are very much not werewolflike."

"No, the demons in werewolves are stronger. If you drank my blood, that would open a portal for a vampire to try and take possession of your body."

Buffy stiffened in Riley's embrace, her hands grabbing his wrists, and for a second, Angel could see the distrust there. "Okay, let's not try that," she said.

Angel sighed and leaned back against the counter, intentionally putting himself in a poor position to defend himself, and Buffy immediately relaxed. Allowing the quiet commotion in the lobby to distract him, Angel watched as Xander came back out and headed straight for Willow. Oddly enough, Willow had been standing in the middle of the room, not moving toward anyone. Tara stood by her side, but the two of them were an island of stillness in the middle of all of the soldiers' efficient movement. He turned his gaze back to Buffy.

"I wasn't planning to offer you blood," Angel pointed out, "but if I did, you'd be safe. A vampire is not strong enough to battle a soul for possession. Your soul would push the demon back out."

"But that's not true with a werewolf demon?" Buffy asked, but the detachment in her voice suggested that she was already thinking of the ramifications of that one fact.

Riley spoke up. "So, does that mean that Oz is actually possessed all the time, that the physical manifestation during the full moon is just one symptom?"

Angel nodded. "The demon is always inside Oz, always making him feel demonic instincts. If a werewolf becomes emotional—angry, lustful, afraid—he can turn without the full moon. I've seen one turn in the middle of the day in the middle of a crowd."

"How did you keep the press away?" Riley asked, immediately considering the practical concerns.

"It was somewhere in the mid-1800's." Angel pointed out. "Covering for the werewolf was not my first priority. However, Oz is a good man who doesn't lose himself in that. Just because he is infested with a demon, that doesn't mean he's evil. He would only be evil if he gave in to the instinct to serve his own pleasure and power at the expense of other people."

"Dr. Walsh proved that you don't need a demonic possession to give in to that instinct," Riley said with a grimace. Angel understood how hard that had been for Riley to admit. The soldier had vehemently stood up for Dr. Walsh until all the evidence had come it, but once given, loyalty wasn't easily given up. God knows that Angel had his own issues remembering Darla, the sire who he'd tried to follow even after she'd brought him the gypsy girl who had led to his sould being cursed back into him. Sometimes during his hundred years of wandering the earth homeless, he'd blamed her. He'd imagined that she'd betrayed him out of malice or boredom. In his saner moments, he understood that she had only wanted him to enjoy a girl whose dark hair and eyes were so much like Drusilla. But Angel couldn't imagine knowing that you'd pledged yourself to someone and, in return, they'd filled you with poison and lied to you. Dr. Walsh was probably safer in prison than she would be around the soldiers she'd betrayed.

When Buffy's nose wrinkled, like she was smelling something unpleasant, Angel also suspected that he had made her see something she had not wanted to see. "Why do I have a sudden urge to give evil surveys to the demons I slay pre-slayage?" Buffy asked unhappily. He understood her position—to be effective, she had to kill without remorse, but if she believed him, that was impossible.

"It's not the same on a Hellmouth," Angel promised her. "Most demons can feel the evil soaking up through the ground. There are a few neutral demons who can't feel the Hellmouth or who just don't care. Some time when I'm in Sunnydale, I'll introduce you to Clem. But most good demons are going to avoid anyplace that feels so inherently evil."

"And if I accidentally come across the not-evil kind?" Buffy looked up at him with horror, and he realized she desperately wanted an answer.

"They'll be running away from you long before you see them," Angel promised her. "Demons like the Listers learn to make themselves scarce because that's their only defense." Angel watched as Xander urged Willow toward the stairs. Tara followed, her gaze darting around the lobby like a bird unsure of where to land. He was pleased to note that Graham quickly closed in on the trio, smiling at them as he invited himself for whatever tour Xander had offered her.

"This makes me wonder what would have happened if the general hadn't arrested Dr. Walsh," Riley said quietly, and Angel focused back on their conversation. "Would I have captured Oz or some kid like the one who just gave us his version of teen angst?" Riley looked more than a little bothered.

"You wouldn't have done that," Buffy said firmly, but Riley was already shaking his head.

"Dr. Walsh was drugging me. She controlled all the information, and the information she shared with me and the men... every day I discover another lie. She wanted us to focus on vampires because she thought they were some of the strongest demons."

"Not really," Angel offered. As Angelus, one of the reasons he had been so ruthless was because he felt his inferiority just as surely as Liam had. Only instead of having one overbearing father telling him that he wasn't worthy, he had most of the demon community saying it. Vampires survived by wit or by reproducing at rates that other demons couldn't match. They were stronger than humans, but that wasn't saying much.

"You know," Angel said, watching as Cordelia rationed out the last of the keys, "I'm developing an extensive library here. Your logistical and research teams are welcome to come down and study it."

"If they pay a fee," Cordelia said loudly enough to carry over the general murmur of the men left in the lobby.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"That's fair," Riley offered before Buffy could object. "It's not easy or cheap to run a covert operation this size. Does Graham have clearance for the library?" For the first time, Riley's voice showed stress.

"Graham has full access to anything in the hotel," Angel said, keeping his voice emotionless. Graham was part of his clan now, and a small part of Angel stirred restlessly at this evidence that Riley still held strong feelings for his friend. "But Graham and Faith normally patrol the tourist districts while Spike and I take the docks and warehouses. LA has a large enough vampire population to keep us all busy, and I wouldn't want him up all day transcribing books and then trying to patrol."

Riley nodded, but the motion was tight and jerky. "Fair enough. It's been pretty quiet, so I might send one or two of our researchers down."

Buffy gave a laugh. "At least you have vamps. Sunnydale has been deadsville this year, and not in the crawling with the living dead sort of deadsville. We're down to fighting over who gets to slay the odd demon we can scare up. I never thought I'd be so bored with demonless, slimeless patrols."

That piece of information truly worried Angel. "That isn't good. There's a lot of power in Sunnydale, and if no one is trying to tap into that power, something big is scaring them away."

"Maybe we're the 'big' doing the scaring," Buffy said. "Only I'm not really believing that. That was more like wishful thinking." She shrugged. "Giles says there's some ultimate evil that's scheduled for a return tour next year, so I'm just trying to get my required English classes out of the way now."

"I appreciate that you're giving the teams a chance to work in the field." Riley looked around as the last of his men waited at the elevator, their bags sitting at their feet. "Training hasn't been as intense since Spike left town, and we need to stay sharp if Mr. Giles is right about next year."

Spike had wandered close, the sword he'd been sharpening still in his hand. But then, Angel didn't expect him to go unarmed in a hotel full of demon hunters. Spike flashed Riley and Buffy a wide grin. "Right then, you miss me?"

"Like the plague," Buffy answered for Riley.

Spike offered her a two fingered salute before he turned to Cordelia. "You need me ta help with anything, luv?"

"Them!" Cordelia gestured toward the door. Giles and Jenny were still deep in conversation just outside the front doors of the hotel. "I am not going to stand here forever and wait for them. I have paperwork to do and books to catalog and my hair is scheduled for deep conditioning tonight."

"Oi, you lot," Spike yelled. Angel thought it was probably a little over the top to point the sword at the couple, but Spike had never been good at subtle. "Piss or get off the pot. The woman's got better things to do than wait for you to move your sorry arses."

"Charming as ever," Buffy said with a nasty smile.

"Bloody honest as ever." Looking at Riley, Spike shook his head. "I don't know what you soddin' see in her. She's as bad as Darla, always tryin' to put on airs and make out like she something she's not."

"Spike," Angel warned. He got an eyeroll in return. However, Angel had other concerns. Giles was finally coming into the hotel, his arm resting on Jenny's back as he escorted her in. From the look on Jenny's face, she'd lost whatever debate the two of them had been having just outside the hotel.

"Angel," Giles offered with a stiff nod. The man was obviously going out of his way to not create more hostility.

"Giles," Angel offered in return.

"Yes, despite the rather tactless invitation," Giles looked at Spike, "we will take a room near the one Buffy and Riley will be sharing."

Cordelia typed something into her computer. "Three hundred a night," she offered primly.

"I... what?" Giles blinked owlishly.

"We should get a room somewhere else," Jenny said with a tight smile, making it all too obvious what they had fought about.

"I'm sure Cordelia can find us a more reasonable rate. This isn't the Taj Mahal, after all." Giles stared at Cordelia. Angel wondered if that had worked when he had been a teacher in possession of some nominal power over her. Somehow, he doubted it.

"We're booked up. If you're unhappy with that, talk to Xander. He's the one in charge of remodeling, and right now, the fourth floor is full of soldiers, the third floor is full of Listers, except for our deluxe suites, and the second floor is family." Cordelia looked up. "You are not family."

"Listers? The demon refugees?" Giles' stiffened some at that.

"My guests," Angel said sharply.

Giles pulled his hand away from Jenny and used it to pull a handkerchief out. Not surprisingly, he began polishing his glasses. "Yes, of course. I would hope you could find us a room at a slightly discounted rate," Giles asked. He stared at his own glasses as he polished them, but then, Angel imagined that was the point of his little ritual. Cleaning his glasses allowed him to emotionally divorce himself from the situation by focusing on his own hands.

Angel gave Cordelia a nod. She narrowed her eyes at him, and Angel just knew he was going to have to sit though another spreadsheet outlining their expenses and their income and her inability to magically make numbers match when people kept spending way more than they brought in.

"Fine. $199 a night, and considering that we paid more for the Egyptian cotton sheets, that is the best deal you're getting." Cordelia turned her finger toward Buffy and Riley. "And if any of you get gun oil, demon ick, slime, or semen on those sheets, I'm back charging your card."

Riley held up both hands in surrender. "Yes, ma'am."

Buffy rolled her eyes, but she didn't argue. Angel wondered if her own demon could feel the discomfort at being in another's territory.

"I'll show them up to the rooms," Angel said, holding out his hand for the keys. He knew that Giles would want to stay between Buffy and any demons, and he specifically wanted to make sure that Buffy got as close to the Listers as possible. Cordelia surrendered two keys with an unctuous smile. "Thank you for staying with us, and if you need anything, feel free to take care of it yourselves because we're not your servants," she told the last of the Sunnydale crew before she turned and headed back into the inner office.

"Bloody hell, I adore that woman," Spike said and then he grabbed his sword and followed.

Angel started heading for the stairs. The extra exercise would, no doubt, annoy Giles and Jenny greatly. "Wait," Buffy called. "Did Spike just imply... Okay, that's disturbing."

"Only if they could have children." Riley walked over and grabbed two bags, slinging each over a shoulder as he smiled.

"Way to go with the disturbo images." Buffy walked over to the door and grabbed most of Giles' bags. "Now I'm going to have nightmares about little miniature punk wanna-bes wearing tiaras and taking over the world."

Angel smiled. He had forgotten how much he actually enjoyed Buffy's irreverence. She and Xander had similar senses of humor.

"Think about this," Riley said in an amused voice, "if they could have children, that would mean they'd be stuck raising miniature versions of themselves."

"Ohh!" Buffy's eyes lit up. "That would almost be worth the world-endage."

Angel headed up the stairs. On the second floor landing, he could hear Xander excitedly showing off Angel's suite, so he was guessing Willow was in there. Pushing aside his fears, Angel allowed Graham to keep an eye on that situation while he headed up to the third floor, the leaders of the Sunnydale clan following close behind.


	22. 22

"You have to see this," Xander said, reaching over to flick a light switch. Blue lights under the porcelain tub turned on, and the light seemed to glow from inside. "Cool, huh?" Xander turned the light back off.

"Very much with the lighty goodness," Willow agreed. Xander shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the tub where he was sitting next to Willow. She picked at her skirt, and Tara was looking pretty uncomfortable as she stood next to Willow. Things were definitely not back to the easy friendship they'd once shared.

"So, you did all this work?" Tara asked. Xander smiled at her. "Not all by myself. I found a really cool way to get extra credit and free labor."

"Oh?" The word 'extra credit' cheered Willow up a bit.

"Yep. I get Angel to pay for supplies and then volunteer the hotel for a field trip. The teachers love the fact that this place has enough rooms for the construction students to pair up and see just how ugly plumbing and wiring can get in a building that's coming up on its ninetieth birthday. And in one week, I can get twenty rooms updated. And bonus, Angel gets to see everyone's grade, so I know which rooms I have to redo before the building inspector shows up."

"Generally, it's a great plan, but I thought Faith was going to snap that guy's neck last time," Graham said. He was sitting on the long marble vanity, leaning back against the mirror so there were two of him, each leaning against the other.

"Goddess, why?" Willow asked, her hands coming up to her mouth. Xander was just glad that Graham didn't mention Spike being in on that neck-snapping plan.

"Do you remember Devon? The dating Buffy and asking Cordelia out at the same time Devon?"

Willow scrunched up her face before she turned to Tara. "He was kind of a boy whore, and then there was the time he put drugs in the green Jello, and he turned Angel all grrrr."

Xander flinched. He hadn't actually meant to remind her of that little adventure. Tara nodded. "I heard the s-stories."

"Yeah, well one of the guys at school makes Devon look classy. He was over here about a month ago, and he offered to plumb Faith's pipes. Actually, I seem to remember talk of pipe snakes and clogs and some really bad thrusting metaphors."

Willow made a face, and Tara just blushed.

"I remember the screaming," Graham added. "Lots of screaming. He should have known that if he was offering his equipment, Faith was going to want to test the durability of the goods before buying."

"Oh... OH!" Willow cringed in sympathy.

Graham shrugged. "I was not feeling the sympathy."

"The school offered to kick him out for sexual harassment, but Faith didn't want to go there. She just told him that if she caught him talking to a woman like that again, she was going to confiscate his equipment altogether. Oddly, he dropped out of school," Xander said with a grin. He couldn't say he was sorry.

Tara reached up and ran a finger over the glass tile around the tub. "It seems like you're happy here."

Xander didn't miss the way Willow's gaze skittered away and settled on the floor. "I miss my girls," Xander quickly answered. "I make Spiderman jokes, and no one gets them."

Willow looked up and smiled. "I can't believe you made me read all those."

"Jesse and I would quiz her on Spiderman and then she'd quiz us on our required reading for school. I'm guessing you know who always won that little contest," Xander told Tara.

Tara gave him a small smile and let her hand rest on Willow's shoulder. Xander liked Tara. He hadn't expected to because part of him still thought of Willow and Oz as the fairy tale couple, but Tara had a calm that could rival Oz, and she looked at Willow like she was utterly in love and didn't even care who knew it.

Reaching out, Xander rested his hand on Willow's, stopping her from picking any more threads from her skirt. He was afraid, at this rate, that she was going to end up skirtless. "I haven't been able to beat Willow in anything since the first summer Boogerman came out."

Willow shivered. "I hated that game. It was so bad. You had to fling boogers and fart at these creepy little demon things. It was gross."

"Which led to a lack of Willow practice. I am the almighty Boogerman champion." Xander held his arms up in victory. "Of course, it didn't hurt that she kept covering her eyes every time she fart attacked."

"It was gross," Willow defended herself softly, but Xander could feel the tension finally draining out of the room.

"I'm sure it was," Tara agreed with her.

"So, Tara, what were your big misuses of time as a kid?" Xander asked. He wasn't prepared for Tara to go stark white.

"I... I was f- f-fairly quiet."

Willow looked up at her. "Tara actually comes from a big magical family. She can do way more than I can, especially with potions and incantations. I guess training with Jenny has left me more on the techno end of the magic scale, but together, we can do some wild magic."

"You have a lot of power," Tara told Willow. Then she looked up at Xander. "I know about herbal remedies and potions, but I didn't do much before I came to Sunnydale."

"Yeah, that's the Hellmouth for you," Xander said. "It makes you tap into whole new powers just to try and not get your ass kicked by the local demons. You should have been around right before the mayor went boom in the local school. I think there were more vampires than humans in town."

"We were under orders to only conduct reconnaissance at the time, but we'd go out and get all these vampire readings on our gear, and it just about turned my hair white," Graham agreed. He shook his head. "Some days I wondered why the hell I didn’t run for the hills, and other days I just wanted the green light so I could start killing the things."

"Yep, Hellmouthy good days," Xander shrugged. "I can't say that I'm sorry the mayor going boom has left a big pile of boring. You guys deserve a little boring," Xander told Willow. He was bothered by the fact she'd gone back to picking at her skirt.

"Is your room this nice?" Tara asked in the awkward silence that had descended.

"Tara!" Willow hissed. Tara practically shriveled into herself.

"What?" Xander recognized Willow outrage, he just didn't understand it. He traded looks with Graham, but he looked as confused as Xander.

"The room. I mean, it's really okay that you share a room with Angel, and this is a really, really awesome room to be doing the sharing with. The bathroom is bigger than most apartments in LA. So, it's all good. I mean, as long as you really like him it's okay, because you would never... you know... just to get a nice room. And goddess, I practiced this speech after Giles told me that you were probably going to, um, yeah, and it didn't sound like this at all."

"Oh," Xander said. Yep, here came the weird.

Willow reached out for his hand. "Exactly, and 'oh' is fine between consenting adults. 'Oh' is good even."

"Okay, I really don't want to think about you and Giles discussing my 'oh' at all," Xander said unhappily.

Graham made a disgusted sound. "I like to think that anyone who can't come out and say 'sex' isn't having any in the first place." Willow blushed dark red, and Xander glared at Graham until Graham held his hands up in surrender. "Just my opinion," he said in his own defense.

Xander was starting to wonder if the bathroom wasn't going to explode from the force of all the weird building up. "I have my own room, Willow," Xander said. "Not to say that I'm not interested in..." Xander waved his hand incoherently.

"Sex," Graham offered. "It's really is less disturbing when you just say it."

Xander glared at him. "Fine. I'm interested in sex, happy?"

"Goddess, no," Willow whispered. She really was going to burst a blood vessel blushing so hard, but strangely, Tara almost looked amused.

Xander braced himself to just get the conversation over fast—like pulling a Band-Aid off or ripping out an arrow that was lodged in your liver. Fast-good. "I would love to have sex with Angel, but Angel is all going-slow guy. He seems to think that I’m going to wake up and decide that he's gross or creepy or something. So we are not big with the... sex."

"But... why show us his room?" Willow asked. Xander was starting to wonder that himself. Right now, hanging out with Faith or Spike was sounding better and better, even if they were both taking sword training way, way too seriously. Xander's bruises had bruises some days.

"Because he has the coolest room," Xander pointed out. If he had a shot at the door, he really might run for it right now. Unfortunately, the bathroom really wasn't big enough for four adults and he was crammed in the corner farthest from the door. "He'd probably be happy in a closet if we let him put a bed in it, but demons have all these rules and expectations, and the head of the clan definitely needs bragging rights and I worked my butt off on this room."

"Hey, I'm impressed with the room," Graham offered. When Graham had first decided to tag along, Xander had been a little on the slightly confused side, but he was pretty damn glad he was here now.

"You just like the big screen TV."

"Hell, yeah," Graham agreed. "It's a little ironic because Angel does not strike me as a big television guy, but it's impressive."

"The bookshelves are more his speed," Xander agreed. "Those are solid mahogany. Originally, they were in storage in the basement, and water had damaged them so badly that the warping had split the wood and pulled all the joints loose." Xander stopped. Okay, he was falling back into pointless small talk, which was not really where he wanted to be, not with Willow.

"They were nice," Willow agreed. Then she picked at her skirt some more.

"We should see if we can get Cordy to comp you a room." Xander stood up and gestured toward the door. He really did wish he could make her happy, like when he had taken the fall for breaking that crayon, or when he and Jesse had gone along when she played doctor by poking them in the mouth with sticks, but he didn't know how anymore.

Willow stood up, and Tara reached over and slipped her own hand into Willow's, threading their fingers together. Looking over, Willow gave Tara a scrunch-face. "We'll probably have to pay double. Cordelia and I are not exactly friends."

"Hey, she's going to like you a whole lot more now that you're gay," Xander pointed out. "And I totally did not mean that in a creepy, she's-interested-in-you kind of way." Graham looked a little confused at that, but Xander did not want to get into a discussion of the weirdness that had been his high school love life. He really did consider gayness a defensive strategy at this point. "Speaking of the gay, where did you two meet?"

"Wicca group at school," Willow said, and now that they were safely small-talking, she looked a lot more cheerful. This was so not feeling like a healthy reunion. Xander still loved Willow, he just wasn't sure he knew her. "I thought I was going to meet all these witchy types and learn other types of magic, and it turns out that they were all new age pseudo-witches. They waved sage around and said that purified their auras, but when I mentioned spells." Willow got an unpleasant look on her face.

Tara nodded. "They weren't very open minded."

Xander held the door for the girls, watching them head for the stairs. "They probably don't believe in magic and demons and Hellmouths. I still think there's a weird brain-wiping vibe."

"Hellmouth amnesia," Willow agreed.

"Xander," Angel called from the first floor, and Xander was really, really hoping for some sort of plumbing emergency that would require his immediate attention. Heck, given five minutes and a wrench, he could create a fourth floor plumbing emergency.

Xander hurried down the stairs. "Wow, the lobby really cleared out. We were hoping you could maybe put in a good word with Cordy and get Willow and Tara a room, because unlike Giles and Buffy, she is not getting the monthly government paycheck."

Angel frowned. "Why not?" He reached out, and Xander just silently shook his head. For someone who insisted they had to wait three more weeks before sex, Angel was touching more and more. The second Xander got close, Angel's arm slipped around his waist and pulled him close. Oh yeah, his Angel had a few issues with possessiveness.

"I don't really do anything." Willow was quick to say it, and Xander even knew she believed it, but Xander wasn't buying it. From the frown on Angel's face, he wasn't either.

"I thought you were the one to develop the computer program that tracked deaths and potential vampires." Angel looked at Willow with that face that Xander liked to call his 'making a point' face.

"And she integrated a charm," Tara said. The woman was clearly uncomfortable around Angel, and she was practically behind Willow in her attempts to stay back, but she still spoke up. "The charm tracks demonic signatures and transposes them onto the program's map, so we can see how much demonic energy is in a place."

"That sounds cool. Why don't we get any of the cool computer stuff?" Xander asked. Honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to be able to track demons. He knew he didn't want to see how many demons were in LA because that number was freaksome. However, he also suspected that Willow had not been getting her daily dose of praise. The last time he'd seen her this twitchy was sixth grade. They'd had a teacher who thought praise just made a student lazy and laurel resting. By the end of the year, Willow had been a total basket case.

"Because we don't have anyone who can do that type of magic," Angel answered. "Willow, the tech team is setting up in the office, but I was wondering if you could help them."

"Me?" Willow took a step backwards, and practically pushed Tara back with her. Oh yeah, this was just going peachy. And here Xander thought this would be a great time to heal old wounds. Either this was opening new wounds, or Willow was way more wounded in general than he really wanted to even consider.

"Hey, you're tech-girl," Xander pointed out with a smile.

"Jenny is much better than I am. I should get her," Willow said, and she backed up another step toward the stairs.

"Willow." Angel held up a hand to stop her. "I don't trust Jenny Giles." Willow opened her mouth to argue, but Angel kept right on going without giving her a chance. "She knew there was a happiness clause on the soul-curse, and she didn't tell us."

Willow chewed on her lip for a second. "I'm sure she was only doing what she thought was right."

"I believe that," Angel agreed. "But the problem is that Xander was living with me at the time. Now we know that the curse requires perfect happiness, a condition I really don't think I'm in any danger of, but none of us knew that back then. For all she knew, a really good television program or a chance to see a sunrise in Technicolor for the first time in a hundred years could have been enough. If Angelus had come back for good, Xander would have been the first to find out."

Xander watched as Angel's words made Willow fold in on herself. Her arms hugged her stomach, and she just looked like she was shrinking. For a second, Xander considered stepping in, but hopefully Angel had a plan—one that didn't involve emotionally shredding Willow and leaving her in tears, because right now, Xander could see tears coming.

"Jenny didn't put Xander's safety first, but I know you will." Angel stepped forward and put a hand on Willow's shoulder. "You and Xander have been friends longer than anyone else here, and I'm including Spike and myself because our early relationship was not exactly friendly. I know you'll protect him, and I know you have the skills to do what the army programmers can't."

Willow blinked at him, and Xander recognized that expression. She was trying really hard not to cry and on the verge of failing. Xander wasn't all that sure that Angel recognized the expression because he kept right on talking about the job.

"They're trying to create a virus that will spread through the hate groups and the demon groups on-line, something that would capture information on the Scourge and send up a red flag so we can track all their units. But the Scourge is dangerous. If we destroy one army unit, they might write the unit off as dying in the line of duty or three more units might show up. They're fanatics, and we can't predict what they'll do."

"What do you want me to help with?" Willow asked in a small voice. Tara moved in closer, her arms coming around Willow's stomach as she held Willow from behind.

"The programmers are good, but they're used to tech. The Scourge may have cyberwiccan or technomages working for them. Can you create a cyberspell that will confuse any magical attempt to trace us? I don't want the Scourge showing up here and Xander being the one to answer the door."

Willow looked from Angel to Xander and back before nodding. "I can look. I still think Jenny could—"

"I don't trust her like I do you," Angel said firmly. "She doesn't have the same desire to protect Xander."

"Intention is important in a spell, and you love Xander," Tara whispered.

"Hey, Willow." Graham stepped forward. "Do you know Steven Wolfe?"

Willow nodded. "We met. He's one of Riley's friends."

Graham laughed. "Friend might be too strong a word. He's a great darts player and a nice guy, but Riley and I don't actually understand two words he says. I saw him and Miranda Tamani earlier, so I can introduce you. I'm surprised you guys aren't geeking buddies already." Graham turned to Angel. "Where'd you set up the geek boys, boss?"

"The blue office," Angel nodded toward the service hallway.

"Ladies," Graham offered a charming smile and a sweep of his arm. "Once you're done with your spell, I happen to know a certain carpenter who can be bribed into wearing a suit for a dinner at a nice restaurant."

"Hey! Any place that wants my business wants my workboots," Xander said while Graham was herding Willow and Tara toward the service hallway.

"Keep telling yourself that, kid," Graham called over his shoulder. Xander waited until they'd all turned the corner before Xander sagged into Angel.

"First, thank you for the save."

"You're welcome." Angel's arm came up behind his back, and Xander let his head fall onto Angel's shoulder.

"You have talked more today than in the last month," Xander said. Angel wasn't a talker, and the minute Angel started doing stuff that wasn't Angelish, Xander started wondering what plan he had going on in his head.

"I thought people needed to hear some truth, and I don't think they're getting that truth at home."

"Jenny and Giles." Xander sighed. Whoever thought time healed all wounds never tried being wounded around Jenny and Giles because they were more the hyenas gnawing at the edges of the wound than the letting it heal sort.

Angel urged him forward, and Xander gratefully followed Angel's lead. He was so in over his head with Willow and Giles and the new brand of weird they had going now. A Lister girl went running down the stairs, squealing in joy, and Xander stopped and watched her run. Her sister was close behind.

"How long do you think it's been since she could play like that?" Xander asked quietly.

"I don't know. But we're not only going to destroy this unit; we will track the main Scourge army so she doesn't have to worry anymore," Angel promised.

Xander wondered if the little girl or her family would have to worry about demon hunters or slayers. He thought back to those early speeches Giles had given them. Vampires had nothing of the human whose body they had taken. Demons were all evil hellspawn. Other dimensions were full of evil beings with the sole goal in life to destroy all human life. God, had he ever been so young that he bought that?

It didn't even make sense because if all demons were united against humanity, he was guessing humanity would have been in the crapper a really long time ago. Heck, they'd found that record of the one town where the demon finished his ascension. The whole town just, poof, vanished. Or at least the people did. Xander was guessing that if anyone had gone looking, they would have found a lot of suspicious poop. But the ascended demon hadn't then eaten the world. As far as Xander could tell, he'd ascended, eaten the town, and then fallen off the demonic radar. If you were in the town about to get eaten, ascension was totally and justifiably terrifying, but it wasn't world-ending, human race extinction, badage.

Angel guided them toward his bedroom, and Xander happily allowed himself to be guided. Only when the heavy double doors were closed and Xander had collapsed onto the couch did he think about the mess they had in the hotel. "This is not good, is it?" Xander asked.

Angel came over and sat so close that their thighs touched. "We can handle it. I think we're safer if more people do their own thinking and have access to independent information," Angel answered.

Xander let his head fall back against the couch. "And we're back to the Jenny and Giles show."

"Buffy is the leader of the clan I saw today. Those two are..." Angel stopped.

Rolling his head to the side, Xander studied Angel. He was more stressed about this than he was letting show. Angel had a seriously good poker face, but Xander could see the tiny traces of emotion that snuck through anyway. "Explain it in vampire terms," Xander suggested.

Angel looked over and shook his head. "They aren't vampires."

"But that's how you see the world. And freakily, your vampire logic works with people most of the time."

"Vampires do learn about the world from the humans whose memories they inherit. Maybe we inherit more human behaviors that we like to admit." Angel rested a hand on Xander's thigh. "Jenny and Giles are exiled Masters, old vampires who have made such a terrible mistake that their minions have abandoned them and they're left trying to curry favor with a new Master. A clan leader with vampires like that in his court knows that the old ones should be watched because they will learn their place, they will try to manipulate the situation to make themselves invaluable, or they will try to usurp the court."

"Slightly harsh," Xander said.

"But is it accurate?" Angel asked.

Xander couldn't answer that, he could only shrug.

"Maybe I shouldn't assume their motives are similar." The confidence Angel had shown just minutes ago faded. Now Angel had that expression like when he was watching a movie that he really didn't understand.

"The whole trying to make themselves invaluable part is possible. I don't like to think that Giles would be all shallow-man, but he got booted out of the Watchers, and his family was all Watchered up, so he probably got the boot from them too. When he got married, Willow told me that one cousin and Ethan Rayne were the only ones to show up on his side." Xander chuckled. "And then Ethan Rayne tried to suck Hellmouth energy out for some big chaos spell and Riley had to arrest him. Apparently Buffy was way with the freaking about Riley almost missing the wedding."

"Jenny failed her family." Angel stopped at that, but Xander could fill in the blanks. From what he'd seen of Jenny's creepy uncle, her family wasn't the forgiving or the mentally healthy sort. Suddenly Xander was feeling sorry for them, but he really did not want to deal with that tonight. Nope, he wanted to be really frustrated with them for keeping up the demonish propaganda. Maybe they needed to find a PR firm to friendly up the word "demon." Or they could pick a new word... like "dimensionally different" or "alternately evolved."

"Oh, and thank you for seeing that Willow was way with the flailing," Xander said. Angel's mouth did that little quirk thing.

"What?" Xander demanded.

"Nothing." Angel looked at him, but he had on that face, the one that said he had more than nothing going on.

"Angel, she's been my best friend as long as I can remember. That face? That face you have on right now? That face is making me wonder if I should worry."

The minute he said that, Angel immediately cut him off. "I would never hurt your friends."

"Then tell me what you did."

"I didn't do anything."

"Tell me what you're thinking about, then," Xander insisted. No way was Angel going to get a free pass on this one.

For a second, Angel just looked at him, and Xander crossed his arms. Angel sighed in defeat. "I just did what I would have done if she'd been a valuable minion acting like that," Angel admitted.

"Okay, please tell me this does not involve anything that is going to make me blush next time I see her," Xander begged.

"It doesn't." Angel shifted on the couch so that he was looking at Xander. "Sometimes a clan gets so large that a clan leader can't keep control over all the vampires in his court. The old master, Darla's sire, had a court that large. When that happens, the leader creates groups within his own clan, cliques that are loyal to each other. As long as the leadership of the group remains loyal to the clan leader, then all the members of the group will as well."

"That sounds logical," Xander agreed.

"Until you have a clique leader like Darla who breaks away, and then she takes her group with her."

"Oh, yeah. Batface could not have been happy about that."

"He forgave her." Angel dismissed that with a shrug, but then he always ended conversations about Darla as quickly as possible. Yep, Xander avoided Jesse conversations, and Angel avoided Darla ones. They had matching issues.

"Wait." Xander sat up. "You're trying to put Willow into a clique."

Angel nodded. "One that is loyal to Riley."

"Who is loyal to Buffy, and Giles and Jenny are out of the equation."

"Hopefully," Angel agreed.

"Small flaw, oh scheming one. Willow is all about the authority figure. She brought apples for the teachers, she practiced piano until her fingers cramped for her parents, she is pretty much all about the older authority figure telling her she isn't screwing up."

"Hopefully the soldiers with those computers will do that."

"If they can't?" Xander asked. Manipulating your friends because they were there and you just happened to manipulate them was one thing. Xander could admit he'd done his share of drive-by manipulations. But this was premeditated manipulation, and things were feeling creepier.

"I'll do what I have to in order to keep the clan safe," Angel said firmly. Then he got up and walked out of the sitting area and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"Well, crap," Xander whispered. Something was going on because no way would Angel get this worked up unless there was something to get worked up over. And the very fact that Angel wasn't telling him meant that the something was big enough that Angel didn't want him to have to deal with it. "If I catch any Scourge, I'm going to hit them... a lot," Xander promised himself. If it weren't for them, his two worlds wouldn't have come crashing up against each other. He glanced toward the main door. He could go down and talk to Willow—maybe crack a few jokes and try and help her fit in with the soldier guys. But he also knew that Angel was going to be brooding and wondering if he was screwing things up.

Getting up, Xander walked over to the bedroom doors. Locked. "Angel, open the doors," Xander called, knocking on the solid wood. "Angel, I built this suite. Do you really think I didn't keep builders keys for myself? Don't make me go through the crap in my room to find them."

The door clicked, but it didn't open. Xander pushed the doors open. "Hey," he said. Angel was sitting in the reading chair under the lamp. He had one of his big depressing books beside him. "You know..." Xander crossed the room and sat at the end of Angel's bed. "You're handling this way better than I am. I mean, I was just kinda failing my way through that conversation with Willow. We were doing great when we kept the conversation to anything pre-slayage, but whole avalanches of freaky kept falling on us when we talked about the here and now. So, you are not going to do your guilt thing. In fact, I just got a new video—Species II. Naked girl parts, aliens, and really, really horrible reviews. Horrifying reviews even. How can we go wrong?"

"I'm worried that I'm harming your friends, and you want to torture me with movies?" Angel asked. He was clutching his book like that would save him, but he should know better by now.

"Oh yeah," Xander agreed with a smile. "Either that, or I can get naked, lay on your bed, and see how long your one month rule lasts. Your choice."

Xander was rewarded with eyes that instantly yellowed with lust. Oh yeah, Angel might be playing noble, but there was definitely lust there. He was almost disappointed when Angel practically ran for the television in the sitting room. Not that Xander really wanted his first time with Angel to be a quicky with Willow likely to come knocking on the door and asking about dinner at any time. That would be awkward. Nope, sex later—sorting the various demons, friends and semi-allied clans now. Real life sucked.


	23. 23

Angel rested the flat of his sword on his shoulder, and Xander might have stopped to consider how very sexy that looked if he wasn't more than a little freaked out about the coming fight. Across the alley, one of Riley's teams prepared the explosives at the west wall.

"Tell me these guys are good," Xander whispered to Graham. He was a little surprised that Graham was going in with them and not with the army guys going in on the other three sides, but Angel and Spike seemed to accept it without blinking, so Xander supposed something had changed when he wasn't looking.

Now that he thought about it, Graham hadn't really been hanging out with the soldiers except during sword training. Riley's crew had been more than a little disappointed that bullets were more on the annoying than the deadly side with these guys, and apparently their nifty exploding shell bullets used guns that were a little too large to carry into a fight. Three sharpshooters had already gone in to find the Beacon and make sure they were in position to shoot any demons trying to turn it on, and their guns were so big Xander wasn't sure he could lift them.

Faith stretched her back and shifted a little closer. "They'd better be good or this is going to be one short fight when those Scourge set off that Beacon." Two Listers had insisted on fighting with them, and they both watched with their lips pressed tightly together. Xander was guessing he was not the only one with pre-fight jitters.

"They're the best," Graham assured all of them. "The explosives teams will get all sides open at once, and while the other teams don't have as much experience with swords, they're experienced soldiers, so they'll handle their end of the fight."

"Then these uglies are going down," Faith said with a tight smile. "And if the fucking soldiers get in my way, they're going down, too," she warned, looking away from Graham. Xander traded a worried look with the guy.

"No worries, pet," Spike offered. "They get in the way, and I'll cut 'em down to size."

Cordelia rolled her eyes at them. "You two need a dictionary. Look up 'ally'."

"It means the wankers who I won't go out of my way to kill unless they threaten me or mine." Spike's lips curled into a smirk as he stalked closer to Cordelia, ducking his head and reaching out to slip a hand around her waist. "Nothing's touching you, pet," he promised her, his lips moving toward her. Xander cleared his throat and looked away because Spike somehow made kissing look dirtier than porn.

"You aren't ever touching me again if you kill Buffy's soldiers."

Xander looked over, and Cordy had on her 'so not kidding look.' It was a scary look.

"If you're done getting shot down, we need to focus," Angel said. "Four minutes. Xander, keep Cordelia in sight, and both of you stay to the rear. Call out if we have Scourge trying to flank us, and other than that, just pull the wounded to safety. And Spike, if you kill any soldiers, just remember that those two are going to be pulling the wounded out of the way, so they'll be the ones cleaning up any mess you make." Angel took a second to really stare at Spike. No way did Spike care about the soldiers, but Xander had the feeling Spike would protect all Riley's guys if that's what it took to keep him and Cordelia safe. No matter what Spike claimed, he was a giant softie when he cared about someone. Angel turned to the last three members of their team. "Doyle, Tor, Jerry, stay behind the four of us and focus on defense. Keep the demons off our backs."

Xander wasn't as sure about that bit of planning. Doyle looked pale with fear, and Tor was one of the Lister fathers and old enough to be Xander's grandfather. Xander would rather be doing the backing up himself, but he understood why he couldn't. Years ago, he'd called Angel an idiot for thinking he could be in a battle with someone he loved and not have something really bad happen. At the time, he had been trying to cleverly break Angel and Buffy up. But now Angel loved him, and Xander knew if he was in the middle of the battle, Angel would take stupid risks to protect him. Which all meant that Xander planned to actually stay in the rear.

Spike sighed heavily. "Peaches is a lot more fun ta hunt with when the rest of you aren't around," he complained. Moving to the side, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, watching from the corner of the building as the time ticked down.

"Spike, they can see you," Xander hissed.

"Yeah? I'm just a bloke on the corner smoking, so I'm not all that interesting unless I'm talking to the shadows in the alley."

Okay, that kinda made sense. Xander switched the hand his sword was in and flexed the fingers as he waited for the signal.

"You'll do fine," Graham whispered. "Hell, you're still better with a bladed weapon than I am, so you'll probably do better than I will."

"I won't let anything touch you, boyfriend," Faith said with a grin that promised murder and mayhem. "Besides, we're good at covering each other's backs." She shoulder bumped him and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Yep, she was ready for the fight.

Xander didn't feel nearly as ready as Faith. Then again, Faith and Graham patrolled about every night when Xander was safely tucked up in bed with a book on city wiring regs. The last time he'd been in a major fight had been graduation.

Back then, he'd done what he had to, but he was more than a little happy to have Angel making the decisions this time around. The deaths of every single person in that fight still weighed him down as much as the look of horror on Jesse's face when the stake pushed into his heart. There were nights that he could swear he saw Harmony's long, blonde hair, and he wished he could just turn back time and tell her to stay home. He should have done that the first time around because asking Harmony to fight was like encouraging a little corgi dog to go after a pit bull. Slightly guilt-inspiring. Xander was officially not cut out to be warrior-guy. Or he was not cut out to be leader-warrior-guy anyway. He was fix-it guy and moral-center guy and kick-in-the-ass guy when Angel put his head up his ass. And now he was covering the rear escape and pulling-the-injured-to-safety guy. He could do that.

A muffled blast startled Xander out of his thoughts, and he found himself running next to Cordelia. She had her short sword up, and an intense look on her face that made Xander suspect that demons would try to get through him before they challenged her.

Angel and Spike went through the hole first, flying through with supernatural grace, and Xander almost felt sorry for Graham who had to scramble over the broken bricks looking way more human than the other front line fighters. The Listers were stuck scrambling over the rubble too, so no supernatural grace and strength there, but Doyle demoned out and managed a single jump over the mess.

Riley's men were standing guard at the hole, so Xander ducked in through the smoke and braced himself for an attack as he went in. Cordelia was close behind him, and inside, he heard her softly say a very unladylike word she probably wouldn't admit to even knowing much less saying under normal circumstances.

The Scourge had brought in extra units after Riley's guys started playing 'poke and run' with the bad guys, but Xander hadn't expected this many. The Scourge were an army—a really ugly army. Sword clashed against swords, and Xander heard gunfire echoing through the enormous warehouse, so either the sharpshooters were choosing targets or Riley's guys were in deep, deep shit. A bleeding Scourge soldier in a uniform totally ripped off from some Nazi came stumbling toward them, and Xander disemboweled him with a quick thrust and retreat move. Not pretty or fancy, but so very effective.

Spike leaped up above the crowd, his face shining with glee, and his body moving with inhuman grace that reminded Xander of a really playful tiger. He landed, and half a second later, a Scourge soldier was flying over the entire melee, his arms flailing before he slammed into one of the metal catwalks and then fell back to the ground.

"Soldier down," Cordelia called. Xander brought his sword up and ran next to her as she aimed for one of Riley's guys. He was down on the ground emptying his gun into the belly of a Scourge who was about to decapitate him.

"Hey, pick on someone who knows which weapon to use." She thrust forward with her sword, and it wasn't a half-bad move. Unfortunately, the Scourge was better than half-good. He knocked her sword to the side, but Xander used the opening to shove his sword deep into the guy's underarm. He started gurgling up blood, and Cordy held out her arm. The injured solder grabbed hold, and Cordelia pulled him backwards while Xander covered them both.

The fight was slowly turning from one giant free-for-all into a number of smaller fights, and Xander caught of glimpse of Faith whirling and kicking her way through a clump of Scourge, Graham at her side, only without the kicking and whirling and more with the straight hacking at enemy arms with his sword. Cordy got the wounded guy to the blasted opening, and the medics claimed him from there, and then the two of them were, once again, stuck watching the action and waiting to see if any more of their own would fall. Xander was just trying really hard to not think about how easy it would be for one of the Scourge to stake their vampires. Technically, a stake to the heart would be just as deadly for Graham or Faith, but Xander found himself searching the warehouse for Angel and Spike.

A bubble of power swept through the building, and Xander screamed as he saw Angel lifted and thrown across the room. Xander hadn't even opened his mouth to call out for someone to help him before the sound of other screams filled the air. The remaining Scourge members clawed at themselves, their skin sliding down off their bodies like melting wax figures.

Xander brought his sword up defensively and spun around, searching for an enemy. That's when he noticed Spike springing up from the ground where something had thrown him, snarling at the air. One Scourge member exploded into little hard chunks that ricocheted off the walls.

"Faith!" Graham's call made Xander spin around again, and Faith was on the floor, her arms up over her head like someone was hitting her. Graham was spinning around like he was searching for an enemy to fight. He had his sword held high, and he'd pulled his gun out, but he couldn't seem to find anything to shoot at or stab. Xander made quick eye contact with Cordelia, who made 'go-go' gestures with her hand. Xander ran to cover them. Another Scourge exploded, and Xander yelped as a chunk of demon caught him on the shoulder and stung like when the baseball team would throw balls at Xander instead of to him during P.E.

Luckily, Angel was up again and looking a little Angelusy, but now Xander noticed Doyle lying silent on the floor, a pool of blood spreading out from his head. "Doyle!" Xander called, changing course mid-dash. Another Scourge exploded and then a series of them went up at once, showering the warehouse with hard little chunks of demon that hurt like hell when they hit. Xander threw himself over Doyle and tried to defend the injured man and cover his own head.

"Medic! Medic!" Xander looked up at Riley's call, and Riley was shielding Buffy, who was sitting on the ground looking confused and glassy-eyed. Riley yelled loud enough that his voice carried, even over the last pings as the chunks of Scourge hit the inside walls and fell to the concrete. All around, Xander was surrounded by chunks of grayish charcoal that had been the Scourge army, and he pulled his jacket down over his hand before he shoved the nearest pieces away.

"Um, needing medic more for bleeding man!" Xander called out as he waved his arm. There really didn't seem to be anyone left to threaten with a sword, so he was a little more worried about Doyle bleeding out his ears.

"Help me." The pained cry came from near the weapon, and Xander looked over. Tor was trying to push himself up from the floor, but he was bleeding badly. A soldier with a medic bag ran to his side, but Tor was already starting to shake, his head snapping back and then forward, flinging blood across the concrete.

"He's seizing. I need a stretcher!" The soldier got his hands around Tor's shoulders and moved him over to his back as a second soldier ran over with a backpack that he was already unfolding into a stretcher.

"Oi, he's about to blow," Spike called, but the two medics ignored him. One man laid his own body over Tor to hold him down through the seizures while the other snapped the stretcher together. Xander watched in horror as Tor's head imploded with a pop. Grey and red bits from his head splattered in a tight circle, hitting the two medics. The medics jerked back, and Xander threw up on the floor next to Doyle. "Bloody warned you," Spike said. "This one already blew. Hey, you lot, Doyle is still breathin'."

Xander felt hands on him and he just allowed himself to be pulled away as the medics quickly moved to Doyle, attaching IV lines and a breathing mask before they even wiped Tor's blood off their faces. Xander's throat burned, and his stomach started heaving again. Strong hands supported him, holding him as he threw up yellow bile on a small pile of Scourge charcoal. "Doyle?" Xander wiped his mouth and carefully didn't look in Tor's direction. He wasn't surprised to hear Angel's voice right behind him. Who else would hold him when he was vomiting, and if that wasn't love, what was?

"He's still breathing. He doesn't sound as bad as the Listers," Angel said quietly. Then again, Xander couldn't imagine being worse than the Listers.

"I need help with Faith," Graham called out.

"I'm fine." Faith was answering, but even Xander could tell she didn't sound fine. She sounded shaky, and Faith did not do shaky. She made others shake.

Before a medic could get to her, Spike was there on one knee beside her. A medic and his bag came up, and Spike stopped the guy from coming any closer by pointing a sword at the guy's guts. "You soddin' leave her alone. Got it?" Spike demanded.

"She needs help," Graham reached out and caught Spike's sword arm. For a very long second, Xander held his breath as he waited for Spike to backhand Graham into the middle of next week, but instead Spike actually tolerated him, although he didn't lower his sword and the medic backed away, his hands held up to show that he didn't plan to fight over this. The other two medics were carrying Doyle out, and the third guy hurried after them.

"If she needs help, we bloody get her help, but I'm not letting one of them anywhere near her. Did anyone else notice what direction that attack came from?"

"I did." Angel's arms were still around Xander, and now they tightened. Xander looked around in confusion. Riley was still sitting on the floor next to a dazed Buffy, but as Giles came over to sit next to her, he got up and moved toward the center of the warehouse.

"What are you saying?" Riley asked.

"Just said it, mate. That definitely came from your lot, and seeing as how it took out all the demons, you're dense as pig shite if you can't figure out who did it."

"Oh goddess." Willow whispered the words, but in the silence of the warehouse, her voice was unmistakable. "Oh goddess, no. No."

Xander felt the arms around him shift, and then Angel moved forward, his sword held down by his side. "Cordelia, get over here," Angel said quietly. Cordelia was standing near two soldiers, and she frowned in confusion. "Now." Whatever Cordy had going through her mind, she obviously decided to not piss off the already pissed off vampire.

"Geez, alright. But seriously, if they killed the Lister men, I want a chance to poke someone really hard before you go eviscerating them." Cordy sounded all together, but her eyes were puffy and her mascara was streaked sideways from her wiping her eyes with that weird under-eye move that was supposed to keep her eye makeup from running. Xander guessed that not even Cordelia's tricks could save her makeup when she cried that hard. Spike moved to the side so that he was standing in front of her.

"Just help me up," Faith said, her voice still shaky. Xander was even more freaked out about the fact that Graham had to practically lift her. But she was still one up on Buffy who was still sitting on the floor beside Giles not even trying to get up.

"Captain! Kirkop is injured, too," one of the soldiers called.

"I'm fine," Kirkop said in an unhappy voice, but Xander could see red trails up his arms and his neck and even his face, like he had hundreds of tiny broken blood vessels.

"That shouldn't have happened," Willow said, and Xander's stomach turned to stone as he looked over at her.

"Willow? What do you mean?" Giles demanded before Xander could get past the horrible sinking stomach feeling enough to ask the same question. Giles got up from the floor, and Willow's hands fluttered.

"Giles, let's take this somewhere private." Jenny stepped to his side, her hand resting on his arm.

"Let's not," Angel suggested.

"I agree." Riley turned around so his back was to Angel and he crossed his arms as he considered Jenny and Giles. "Kirkop, get to the medics."

"Sir, I'm fine. I'd rather stay here." Xander watched as Kirkop turned to face Giles and Jenny who had drifted closer to Willow and Tara, and this was not feeling good. This was feeling bad. Freaky bad.

"Dead bad guys is reason to celebrate," Buffy argued. "Yeah, the chunks were a surprise. But hey, at least the Scourge made nice messless chunks." However, she had to use the wall to push herself up, so her cheeriness felt a little forced. She stood leaning against the wall, and Xander cringed as he watched her struggle to stay upright.

"Willow, what do you mean that this shouldn't have happened?" Giles turned around and went back to Buffy, getting his arm around her waist.

"I..." She stopped and looked around with wide eyes full of panic. Xander could feel himself pulled toward that desperation. Whatever she'd done, she hadn't meant to... he knew that. She had on her really, really sorry face, but at the same time, two bloody bodies lay on the ground with their heads exploded. The Listers hadn't deserved to die.

"What did you do?" Angel growled.

"Nothing!" she blurted. She turned around to look at Jenny, and Xander realized that Jenny's face had lost all expression.

"Willow, let's go out to the car," Jenny said firmly.

"Jenny?" Giles sounded bewildered, which was not a tone of voice Xander normally associated with Giles.

"Rupert, we can talk about this later." She gave him a tight smile.

Buffy spoke up. "Oh, I'm starting to think we can talk now. Or you can talk now, I’m just going to stand here and fade in and out of consciousness."

"Buffy?" Willow hurried to her side, getting her own arm around Buffy's waist so Buffy was propped up between Willow and Giles. "Jenny, this wasn't supposed to happen."

"What wasn't supposed to happen?" Giles almost yelled.

Willow jerked like he'd hit her, and Giles sighed. Xander started to step forward, but Angel caught him by the arm and pulled him back. When Xander turned to glare Angel into letting him go, he failed miserably because Angel just pulled him closer.

Giles sighed again. "Willow, what happened to the Scourge?"

Willow's gaze immediately went to Jenny, but she just raised her chin and said nothing. Xander noticed several of the soldiers shifting uncomfortably, and hands were starting to come to rest on the butts of guns.

"So," Angel said softly, "you used one of the spells you'd prepared against demons."

Xander looked up to see if Angel was attempting some wildly inappropriate humor. Sometimes Angel's attempts at humor were definitely lacking any humor. However, there was not much of the haha in his expression. "Spells? Against demons? Friendly demons?"

Kirkop held up his arm where a spiderweb of red veins looked distinctly unhealthy. "You did this?" He looked from Willow to Jenny. "My grandmother always said her father was part odmience—a Polish changeling. I always thought she just liked to tell stories about the old country, but I guess your spell hit more than just the bad guys. And those two were on our side." He swept his hand toward the two Lister bodies, but Xander was not going to look at them again.

"Willow, I'd like a clear answer," Giles said, and Xander was starting to get whiplash from all the demands. However, it looked like whatever weird was going on, Giles and Riley and Buffy had all been unlooplike. Even Tara was looking a little shocked, and that was whole levels of wrong because in the last couple of weeks, Xander had come to think that Willow and Tara were ridiculously in love.

"I didn't do anything." Willow sounded close to crying.

"Mr. Giles," Tara's voice was barely above a whisper, "WWillow didn't cast the spell. Her power was tapped, and whoever cast it pulled on my powers through Willow, but Willow didn't cast it." Okay, for not naming names, that accusation was pretty much pointed right at Jenny.

Willow was already nodding her head at Tara. "I wouldn't cast a spell like that. Angel and Spike could have been all dusty, and I wouldn't do that. Okay, I might do that to Spike because he's soulless and dangerous and really scary, but I wouldn't do that to Angel. He's Xander's best friend, and it really hurts to say that because I know I messed things all up between us, but I wouldn't kill Angel. He has a soul. And Xander gets all googly eyed when Angel comes in the room and there's touching... like they care about each other too much to not touch kind of touching. I wouldn't have ever killed Angel." Willow looked over toward the bodies of the two fallen Listers and tears slipped down her face. "I wouldn't have ever killed them. Tor was really nice," Willow finished with a sob, and Tara hurried to her side.

Xander watched while Giles' back grew stiffer, and he really thought Giles was about to give Willow the motherload of all father-lectures, but then Giles turned toward Jenny. "What did you do?"

"Rupert, this is not the time."

"Actually, I believe it is."

"Hey, I have an idea. Let's just all calm down," Buffy suggested. Willow nodded, tears running down her face.

"We can discuss this in private." Jenny had backed all the way up to the door, which had been blasted open, but Willow and Tara and Giles and Buffy weren't moving. They were all huddled together, supporting Buffy in the middle.

Giles' face got that scary lack of emotion thing going. "Do you think I don't recognize the signature of chaos magic? Are you quite mad? Techno-magic and chaos magic are incompatible. You could have killed us all. And your foolish willingness to cast spells willy nilly has injured Buffy."

"Riley?" Buffy turned her eyes to him. "Help please? I'm not really good at doing the calming people down thing. I'm better at making them mad, but maybe you can play peacekeeper."

Riley stiffened, but he didn't jump in there and start calming people down. "Giles, is Buffy hurt badly?"

"Yes, Giles," Angel said, his voice dangerously soft and lilting with an Irish accent, "are the slayers injured badly?"

"I won't know until I know what spell she used." Giles looked right at Angel without even glancing over toward Jenny, and Xander was thinking that was not a good sign for their marriage. Jenny was slowly turning a pink color, and he thought she was probably getting pretty pissed because she didn't seem the type to be embarrassed.

"It was out of de Aldedelega's Opprimo," Willow whispered. From the silence that fell over the magic-knowing crowd, Xander was guessing that was not of the good. "We found the book in Mr. Rayne's things after he tried to put the forgetting on you before the wedding. But it was only supposed to affect demons, not you, Buffy."

Spike started laughing, and the soldiers shifted nervously. Heck, Xander was nervous because an attack like that probably had Spike itching to taste Jenny's blood, and right now, Xander wouldn't bet any money on Angel stopping him. The laughter was just pretty much reminding all of them that you really couldn't predict what a pissed off Spike might do. "You bloody idiot. Slayers are faster, stronger and heal better than humans. How the fuck do you think that happens without a little demon blood in 'em? Considering how much harder the spell hit them than good old Kirkop there, I guess they're more than an eighth demon and since their heads didn't explode, they're less than half."

"Oh goddess." Willow looked like she was turning green, and Buffy turned to stare at Giles with big eyes.

Instead of answering, Giles looked like he was wilting, and now Riley moved and he moved fast. He got his left arm under Buffy, holding her up with one hand, and his other hand rested on the butt of his gun. The other soldiers were shifting around. If Xander were the suspicious sort, he'd think they were clearing a line of fire toward Jenny. Oh yeah, this was turning so very, very bad.

"I think I want to sit," Buffy said. Graham had Faith in his arms, and her head was resting against his shoulder, so Xander was guessing she couldn't lift it because if Buffy could still sit up on her own, Faith would be fighting like hell to prove she was no worse off than Buffy. Riley carefully settled Buffy on the ground, and several soldiers moved closer. Kirkop actually pulled the strap on his big gun around so that it hung in front where he could rest his elbow on it and glare. Considering that Kirkop had a slightly dark Neanderthal look going for him, he had the scary glare down pretty good. It was going even better with his veiny skin, which made him look a little like a comic book villain. Jenny, however, kept her chin high and still managed to look like she was not-even-doubting-herself girl.

"The first priority was ensuring that the Beacon was not fired. I acted in the best interests of the group. They were going to activate the Beacon."

"I had sharpshooters assigned to prevent that." Oh yeah, Riley sounded pissed.

"It was chaotic. One of the Scourge was going to—"

A soldier with one of those monster guns stepped forward. He was an older man and had a look that would have made Xander avoid dark alleys with him. For two weeks Xander had been living and training with these guys, and Xander would have described most of them as goofy, silly, crass, or overly competitive. Now they all just looked dangerous... and pissed. There was lots of pissed going on. "Lady, I was doing my job, and I didn't even have to worry about refugees darting through my target zone, so that Beacon was covered."

"You couldn't..."

Riley cut her off. "An exploding shell in the head would have stopped any Scourge that got close to the Beacon, but you made a unilateral decision to activate your own version of a Beacon. You chose to selectively attack my unit."

"I targeted the enemy." Jenny looked around, and maybe she noticed the suddenly hard expression on Giles' face. "Rupert, I didn't know this would affect Buffy. You have to believe that. I would never do anything to hurt Buffy or Willow—they're our family."

No one answered her, and Xander could almost smell the homicidal rage in the air. He definitely could smell the dead Listers and his own vomit, and that was doing bad, bad things to his stomach and his psyche, so he definitely didn't need any more dead bodies around.

Looking around at the group, Xander tried putting on his best pleading expression. "Okay, I know I'm not strategy man but attacking your own side is feeling unstrategy, so can we all agree that Jenny stupid and head back to the hotel?"

Xander eeped as Angel turned around and grabbed him, pulling him close before he turned to face the Sunnydale crew. "She's na welcome in my home. You set foot in my territory again and you'll learn what real pain is," he promised in a voice that gave Xander chills. That was Angelus. That was pure Angelus, and Spike stepped forward, his glee shining through as he bounced on his toes. This wasn't even going to be a fight, it was going to be two really big, pissed off demons ripping Jenny into little tiny shreds, and Xander wasn't sure how to stop it. Even worse, Xander wasn't sure he wanted to stop it, and that did not exactly make him a good person.

Jenny pulled a small satchel out from a pocket, and a dozen soldiers had their guns drawn before Xander could blink. It was feeling more and more like the OK corral, and Xander really wished he'd paid more attention in history class because he couldn't even remember if anyone came out of that alive.

Giles stepped forward into the empty territory between Jenny and everyone else. "You need to leave."

"Rupert." Jenny smiled and tilted her head to the side as she reached out her empty hand for him. Giles just stood there as her smile faded and her hand slowly dropped back down to the side. She looked around, but she obviously did not find whatever she was looking for because the emotion drained from her face. Willow was standing in the corner, her face buried in Tara's shoulder as she sobbed, and the soldiers were looking about as homicidal as Spike and Angel, and that was pretty homicidal.

"Jenny, go back to Sunnydale." Giles was using the teacher voice that Xander used to hate.

"I made a choice to save all of us."

"You made a choice," Giles agreed. For a second, they stared at each other, and then Jenny backed up, her hand still clutching that satchel she'd taken out of her pocket. Xander's arm was starting to tingle from Angel's overly-tight hold, but he didn't complain. He felt like one wrong breath and Angel and Spike were going to go racing out into the night and do something that Xander only kinda sorta wanted done. And if they did it... if they ripped Jenny Giles' throat out, Xander just knew he was going to end up in therapy again. He was approaching therapy levels of badness already, and he just couldn't deal with any more.

"Wait," Xander blurted as the obvious suddenly hit him. "You and Spike are okay. You are, right?" Xander squirmed around until he could get a good look at all of Angel. He hadn't worn the Gem of Amara, and Xander made a mental note to make Angel wear it from now on, even if he had to shove it up Angel's ass. Delayed panic made Xander's heart pound so hard that it physically hurt.

"Calm down," Angel soothed him, pulling him close while Xander ran hands over Angel's shoulders and chest looking for burns or injuries. "Calm down, a mhuirnín, we're fine," Angel promised, catching one of Xander's hands and holding it still. "Graham warned us that Jenny and Willow were practicing dangerous magics, and we had a counterspell done. I'm only sorry that I didn't think to protect the rest of you, and for that, she will die if I ever catch her in L.A. again." Angel looked over Xander's shoulder and glared at Giles, but surprisingly, Giles didn't have any sharp comments to throw back.

"Right then," Spike said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, "that leaves one bad little witchy."

"Hold on there," Buffy said, but her warning would have probably carried more weight if she had the strength to stand. She didn't. "Tara already said that Willow didn't cast the spell."

"She just helped create it, didn't you pet?" Spike had his friendly voice going, the one that usually led to bad, bad things, and the two people who could actually stop him, Cordelia and Angel, were just watching silently.

Willow looked up from Tara's shoulder. "It was supposed to be a last resort. Like if we were fighting the mayor and the explosives didn't work. It's a really, really dangerous spell, and Jenny said we would only activate it if we didn't have any choice. I never would have...." Willow's eyes skittered over to one of the Lister men, and her sobs cut off her words.

"Yes, that doesn't absolve you of all responsibility." Giles sounded tired. "However, given your relationship with Jenny, I can certainly see how she was able to convince you to prepare such a dangerous spell."

"Bloody hell, you think that's enough?" Spike demanded. "She soddin' well helped prepare the spell and she provided the power to attack Faith. If you're not willing to discipline her, I bloody well will."

"I hardly think that's appropriate," Giles squared off, but Xander was not calling that a fair fight. Yeah, Giles had more to him than tweed, but without some sort of backup, Giles was going down, down, down, and Angel didn't look interesting in stopping the fight. Xander opened his mouth to object, but Angel's fingers dug into the soft of his arm so hard that Xander gasped in surprise and pain.

"So appropriate is letting her get away with murder?" Angel asked. "Two men who wanted nothing more than to protect their families are dead."

"That's a horror Jenny will have to live with," Giles said firmly.

"But Willow lied," Riley interrupted the stare down.

"Riley," Buffy said in a not-too-subtle warning voice.

"No, Buffy, she lied, and we both know it. After the anti-vampire spell Jenny suggested, we asked if they had other ideas for aggressive magical spells, and they both assured us that they did not, yet they've been working on this since shortly after Ethan Rayne's arrest."

"Hey, it's not like we always made the best judgments under fire. I'm the one who set a gym on fire, and you had that whole incident with the truck and the payroll and the mudslide. Let he who is without a history of major stupidity throw the first mudball." Buffy sounded way more serious than usual, but Riley stood up and turned to Willow.

"Willow, I'm sorry, but this sort of conduct is not within the scope of my command authority. This has to go up to the Army JAG office."

"You're arresting me?" Willow sounded ready to hyperventilate, and Xander squirmed in Angel's arms. He didn't want Willow arrested. He just wanted her to be really sorry and never do anything like that again, and she was sorry. He could tell from the look on her face that she was chocolate-chip-cookie-making sorry.

"Riley, as scare tactics go, this is a good one, but enough is enough." Buffy was sounding cranky.

Riley crouched down next to her. "Buffy, I love you, but I'm a soldier. I know from experience that we make choices in battle that... that can haunt us. And if we know we will never have to account for our actions, we can end up on a slippery slope that will lead to a psychologically dangerous place. I’m not saying Willow is culpable for the murders. I'm saying she needs to stand in front of a JAG court and make her arguments. These are soldiers. They'll understand the pressures of command, and they'll understand that I bear some of the responsibility for this because I never insisted that Willow take the combat ethics courses, even when it was increasingly obvious that she was developing into a frontline fighter."

Giles moved to stand in front of Willow, and he was clearly not planning to budge. "Now see here. This is not the military, and we have not been drafted into your army."

"Then she can face accessory to murder charges in the FISA court. The government is quite clear that demonic activity falls under the jurisdiction of the Foreign Intelligence act."

"Buffy?" Willow clung to Tara, but she looked at Buffy.

"Willow," Riley said as he got up and walked over to her, "I doubt they'll sentence you to anything more than taking the classes I should have required you to take in the first place. But if you ignore your responsibility in this tragedy, can you honestly promise to never make a mistake like this again? You allowed an attack that has disabled Buffy for who knows how long, and if Angel hadn't prepared for a betrayal that I never saw coming, you would have dusted Angel and Spike. You know Xander never would have forgiven you if that had happened, not even if this was a mistake."

Willow hiccupped from crying so hard. "But arrested?" Willow turned to Tara. Her eyes were red, and tears started slipping down her face, but she didn't say anything.

Riley rested a hand on Willow's shoulder. "A review board, Willow. If Buffy told you about my first big failure, she told you that I managed to dump half a payroll into a swollen river, and this was a field operation, so the money was in local currency. A hundred soldiers were fishing the river for the last Treasury bag for a month, and I had to go in front of a review. It was a miserable experience, but I survived, and I'm glad I faced my own mistakes. I will speak for you, as will everyone else here. You made a mistake in following Jenny, but I don't believe you're responsible. I just know that I don't have the authority to make that decision legally. Your actions led to two friendly fire deaths, do you really think you should walk away without facing any consequences?"

Without answering, Willow turned her face back to Tara's shoulder and cried. Riley sighed and turned to face a very pissed off Giles. "Jenny Giles has the same choice. Unlike Willow, she is a government employee acting in a military action. She can go before a JAG review board voluntarily, or I will arrest her under the authority of the FISA court."

"How dare—" Giles started to say.

"You didn't object to the laws when I used them to arrest Mr. Rayne for his attack. This isn't open for debate," Riley said. Xander was impressed. Yeah, Xander had stood up to Giles before, but when Xander did it, he always felt like he was some kid. Riley came out looking way more collected and in-charge than Giles. Of course, if Buffy were up and walking around, Xander suspected that Riley wouldn't have been quite so large and in-charge, but without the spell-attack, Riley wouldn't have needed to take charge.

"If he doesn't make her face her actions, I will take my own justice," Angel said, and the Irish lilt was still there. Giles looked over wearily, and maybe he knew he was defeated or maybe he was just too tired to argue, but he didn't have anything to say about that.

"We need to get Faith somewhere quiet," Graham said. Xander turned, and Graham had put her back on the floor at some point. Her head was in his lap and he was smoothing her hair back from her forehead.

"Right then, we're out of here." Spike walked over, scooped Faith up in his arms and headed for the blast hole they'd walked in through.

"I want to know what spell was cast, and I want that information by sunrise or I'll start asking the questions m'self, boyo." Angel pinned Riley with a cold glare, but Riley just nodded his head.

"Understood. I'll make sure we both have the information we need." Riley went back and knelt down next to Buffy, slipping his hand behind her neck. For a second, Buffy looked at him with all this unhappiness, but then she sighed and let him pull her close.

"What a mess," she said softly, and that was the last thing Xander saw before Angel pulled him out into the night... or Angelus did. Xander was starting to think that perfect happiness and perfect pissedoffness both brought out the great soulless one.


	24. 24

"Hey, Harry," Xander offered as he walked into the kitchen. Doyle's ex was looking a little frazzled, but Doyle was the worst of their walking wounded, and she got Angel-levels of guilt going whenever she left him for more than ten minutes at a stretch, so he wasn't surprised.

"Evening, Xander. How's Faith feeling?" she asked in that tone of voice that meant she wasn't actually listening.

Xander paused with his hand on the refrigerator handle. "I wouldn't know. Everything is 'fine' this and 'five by five' that."

"Ah." Harry nodded, either because she recognized denial or she still wasn't listening.

"So, how about Doyle?" Xander asked.

She stopped halfway through loading her tray with the last of some sliced pickles. "He's definitely not downplaying the pain, but he'll be fine. I hope. He's better about going into his Brachen form, which helps the headaches. He's not getting worse," she answered in a disjointed tumble of words.

"No rush," Cordelia said, looking up from the newspaper. "The army is paying full price for your rooms, so you're welcome to stay for the next year."

That made Harry smile. "That's tempting, especially given the variety of demons you have visiting, but I have my own life and a long-term study of a Molfa clan that I need to get back to just as soon as Doyle is okay." She carefully didn't mention the same thing that all of them weren't mentioning—the fact that the weakness did not seem to be passing. Even the whole Listers deciding Doyle was their chosen one who had summoned an army hadn't cheered him up much. And Faith hadn't asked to go out and slay anything, which was freaking Xander out big time. Faith not wanting to slay was one of the signs of the apocalypse, and Xander had already been through one of those. Two if you counted the Master, who had turned out to be a bit of a disappointment on the apocalyptic front.

"When you leave, do you plan to take Doyle with you?" Cordy asked. Yep, leave it to Cordy to bypass all manners and worrying and go straight for the juicy stuff. The juicy distracting stuff. Xander was starting to think that Cordelia's inadvertent changing of the topic was slightly more advertent than not.

Harry put down the empty pickle jar and frowned. "He's going to have to decide whether or not he fits into my life because I can't keep trying to fit into his."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Men are stupid, and demons more than most. You have to come right out and set the rules. That's what I did with Spike and before that Xander, and that's what Xander had to do with Angel."

"Not really the rule-setting man here," Xander pointed out. If he was, he would definitely be having sex, but no, Angel was all self-denial man and insisted on waiting the full month. Of course, now that they were three days away from the deadline, Xander spent half his time not wanting sex because he was too worried. If his hand could complain, it would be griping about his lack of interest in sex. He had the only sock puppet of love with inadequacy issues. The other half of the time, he was so tied up in knots and excited that he didn't care if he did suck... he wanted to have sex now. Yep, he was embracing his many, many issues.

Cordelia rolled her eyes at him. "Oh please, you have him wrapped around your finger. You just don't know how to reel him in. You obviously were not paying attention when I modeled that skill."

"And people wonder why the three hundred year old master vampire doesn't scare me. I dated her. That was scary," Xander pointed out. Cordelia just made a little huffing noise.

Harry shook her head and laughed. "Is there anyone here who hasn't slept together?"

"Oh please," Cordelia said without looking up, "like he ever got that far."

Harry just shook her head. "The culture in this hotel is enough to write an entire book on."

"Blair said that, but he made is sound less like an insult," Xander observed. Harry blushed, and Xander bit his lip as he realized that probably didn't come out right.

"I didn't—" Harry started to say.

"Xander's an idiot. Ignore everything he says," Cordelia cut her off. She also gave Xander a look that would have killed most lesser life forms.

"Well, I just wouldn't want to offend, especially with everyone on edge." Harry lifted the plate she had fixed. "I should take Doyle his dinner." With that, she retreated, her plate full of a weird combination of cauliflower, Hersey's kisses and pickles. Maybe it was a Bracken-demon thing Doyle had asked for.

Turning away from Cordelia's death glare, Xander started digging through the refrigerator for food. Since the soldiers had come and gone, the shopping budget from Cordy had improved, but Graham was the one who did most of the shopping, and he rarely left Faith's side. It meant they were getting down to the questionable, demonic, and downright-healthy food. A white Styrofoam container was marked with "Enné-Demon Only" in block letters, and Xander pulled it out. It looked suspiciously like barbeque pork.

"What is enné and will it kill me?"

Cordelia looked up from her paper. "If you don't know what it is, it probably won't."

"It's a choice between that or tofu burgers out of the freezer, so I'm going with enné," Xander said as he pulled a fork out of a drawer and poked at the food for a little bit. They'd had one demon guest who insisted on eating eggs just about to hatch into big maggoty things, so he just wanted to make sure the food wasn't going to break out in maggots. "Are Spike and Angel back?" The food seemed to be acting like food, so Xander took a bite. It was a little peppery, but it could pass for barbeque as long as someone wasn't too picky. From the way Cordelia stared at him, he was guessing that he was eating meat from a slug monster or something, but that was still better than tofu. He had standards. Low standards, but standards. And tofu was too low on the edible totem-pole for even him to eat.

"Not yet," she eventually answered. "Spike called, and they have some new lead, but they have to come back to the hotel first."

Xander shoved another forkful of enné in his mouth and dropped into the chair across from Cordelia. Even she was feeling the stress because she hadn't been dropping the little hints about how they needed more help at the hotel. Before the Scourge and the battle and Jenny's spell, Xander and Graham had bet Graham's best knife against an afternoon of Xander's remodeling skills that Cordelia was going to make Angel hire someone. Graham thought maid, Xander was voting for something weirdly unpredictable. But now... now she wasn't even dropping hints. Mostly she stared at newspapers pretending to read them. Yep, they were all a little freaked out. Graham paced, Faith laid around, Doyle complained and Xander didn't know what he was supposed to do. He shoved more enné in his mouth.

"Oh, and the little bitch whose stupidity almost got my lover killed, a mistake for which I would have killed her, called."

"Willow?" Xander asked, perking up a bit. Cordelia was having a little more trouble forgiving than Xander was, which seemed a little unfair because Cordy knew how much Willow wanted to please her teachers, so it really did seem more fair to blame Jenny. Xander could get behind the Jenny-hate.

"Isn't that what I just said?" Cordelia looked up at him, and it was pretty clear she was nowhere near forgiving Willow. Either that or she was so not happy about Faith being sick that she was just willing to blame everyone involved. Maybe if Riley could find and arrest Jenny, Cordelia would shift some of the hate over to the right person. "I told her that she needed to call early enough that all the little vamps would still be in bed because if Angel picks up the phone, he's going to come up and rip her throat out and I'm not going to stop him."

"Cordelia! If she calls earlier, I'll be at school and I'll miss her. Did it occur to you that maybe I'd want to talk to her? "

"Yes. Don't care," Cordelia answered. "Besides, Angel does not need to hear that Riley is working with her defense team. Angel gets all soul-light whenever someone mentions Willow, and I don't want to deal with him getting a grrrr over the fact that the military is going to slap Willow on the wrist and make her take classes on battlefield ethics." Cordelia made a disgusted noise and turned the page on her newspaper. "So, if she wants to apologize and grovel and brag about how she isn't going to jail for the rest of her life where she'd end up as someone's bitch... if she wants to then blubber like she doesn't care what that does to her complexion, she can do it when Angel's still asleep. "

"You seem to know a lot for someone who didn't have a long supportive conversation." Xander had to struggle not to smile.

"Whatever. She's just going through a masochistic phase, and I am so very willing to verbally abuse her."

"Uh huh," Xander said, not even pretending to believe it. Cordy rolled her eyes and refused to answer. They both fell silent. Xander hadn't realized how much Faith's energy and Cordelia's and Spike's complaints had filled up the hotel. Now Cordy was all quiet, and Spike was always out trying to beat an answer out of someone and Faith way lying around pretending she was okay, and the hotel felt about a million times too big for them.

The swinging door slammed open and Spike came through the kitchen. "Any new problems, luv?" he asked, heading straight for the refrigerator. The side of his face was rusty colored, like it had been cut open and bled a whole lot, so Xander was guessing the questions had gotten nasty again. Either that, or Spike was so frustrated that he and Angel had a good bout of fighting and then sex before they came home smelling like sewer. Xander could feel a twinge of jealousy at that. Not the sewer part, of course.

"Just the same old ones," Cordelia said as she put the paper down. "Please tell me you actually found something this time."

Spike turned with a wicked smile that gave Xander the first bit of hope he'd felt for days. "Bloody right, luv. Have a lead on some bookish type that keeps track of spells in the area. According to a demon who had good reason to believe giving me bad intel could be soddin' hazardous to his health, this old git might be able to steer us right." He emptied two blood packets into a mug before sticking it in the microwave and setting the timer. When he walked over to Cordelia, he reached out and ran the back of his fingers over her cheek reverently. "Goin' to get things set right, you watch," he promised. Cordelia reached up and caught his hand, holding it for a second, as she looked up. For one blinding second, the fear was there in every inch of her face, and Spike reached down to cup her cheek with his free hand. Then the moment passed and she slipped back into an annoyed expression.

"Do you have to go walking through the sewers?"

"Unless I plan ta be a flaming ball of dust, yeah. You can teach me a good lesson later." Spike wiggled his eyebrows at her before he went back for his blood. Cordelia raised just one eyebrow in a way that made her look like the horribly mean teacher they'd had in sixth grade. Even now, Xander was almost certain the teacher had been a vampire or a demon or at the very least, a soulless human being, and Cordy could do a pretty mean impression of soullessness when she put her mind to it.

"Bloody hell, what are you eating?" Spike spun around and stared at Xander's dinner.

"Enné."

Spike looked over at Cordy and smirked. "I'm a bad influence on you, I am."

"Oh please. I was cruel long before you," Cordy said with a sniff. "Besides, I warned him. I even put 'demon only' on the container, but he's so demonfied that he thought it meant him."

"Hey, it was tofu or enné, and I have my standards."

"You do know what that is, right?" Spike got a look on his face that made it pretty clear he was about to make up some outrageous and disgusting story. Knowing Spike, two seconds after Xander gave up the enné, Spike would eat it. That would be just like him.

"The slimy innards of some slimy monster? Or maybe you can come up with a better story." Xander had the fork halfway to his mouth just to prove that Spike's teasing no longer worked, and then Angel walked in. His fork paused midair. Angel was so freaking out. His hair was still damp from the shower and chunks of it were going every which way, which would normally be a major issue with Angel. He just totally ignored the fact that he had some serious ugly going on as he went straight for the refrigerator. He didn't even heat his blood after dumping it in a mug. For a second, the kitchen was silent as they all watched Angel.

"I was going to say the gonads of a demon beastie stewed in its own ejaculate." Spike didn't even pretend to have his heart in the teasing. "Right then, you ready ta play head of the clan?" Spike asked Angel.

Angel downed the last of his blood and slammed the mug down so hard that the counter grew red freckles as the last of the blood splattered. "Yes." Angel looked over at him. "You need to change."

"You're the one playin' head of the clan and talking to the wanker. I'm just the charmin' and handsome enforcer. No one will care if I smell like I've been walking around in the sewers all afternoon looking for a chance to rip someone's spine out through their navel."

"I care. Change." Angel definitely had his 'not-joking' voice going.

"Hey, I'm going with you two," Xander said. He dropped the enné on his fork back into the container and ran to put it back in the fridge. From the cranky look on Angel's face, he was about to argue. "With you and Spike both playing 'bad cop,' you need someone to play goofy sidekick 'good cop' or all your 'bad cop' will go to waste."

Angel's frown deepened.

"Pet, this git is a real traditionalist. Might be best if you stayed home," Spike suggested, but Spike was not the boss of him. Spike was not even the boss of himself when Cordelia and Angel were around, so Xander turned to Angel with his best pleading expression.

"I don't have class tonight, and I can't just sit around and watch Doyle and Faith be sick. Come on, you've been crawling through sewers all day instead of waiting until dark like all the good little vampires, so I know that you know how I feel."

That hit the target. Angel cringed a bit and looked over at Spike. They had some sort of weird non-talking vibe thing where they did Morse code by eyebrow or something because after a second, Angel sighed like someone had just talked him into something he really didn't want to do.

"According to a few well placed sources, Prusha tracks every spell in the area, but he doesn't have much use for humans. If we go in there, he wants to meet the head of the Aurelius clan." Angel was clearly apologizing.

"So, you're playing big, bad Angelus. And Spike..." Xander looked over. "Spike is pretty much always big and bad." Spike practically preened under that observation. "So again, you're left with no 'good cop' to your 'bad cop'."

"Prusha won't want to see you playing 'cop' at all. You're human." Angel reached out and rested a hand on Xander's shoulder. Xander could practically feel Angel's need to get Xander to stay home, only Xander had done entirely too much of nothing already. One more day of doing nothing while Faith insisted she was fine without ever getting out of her bed and Doyle groaned like the near-dead, and he was going to climb a wall. Several walls.

"Faith is my friend," Xander said quietly. For a second, Angel just looked at him, but then Angel's fingers slipped around his neck and pulled him close so that Angel could wrap his arms around Xander and hold on tight. Xander put his own arms around Angel's waist and just held on. Yeah, it was girly, but he was gay, and gay meant he got to be girly, and he was gay enough and girly enough and scared enough that he just wanted someone to hug him and promise him that Doyle and Faith and Buffy weren't going to die. He wanted that. But Angel wasn't good with the lying, so he'd settle for the hug.

"I do know how you feel," Angel whispered in his ear.

For a second, Xander couldn't talk. Fear choked him, and he had to struggle to catch his breath before he could make his argument. "I want to help. And even if I'm not helping, I want to be standing there while you help."

"It actually would help to have you along." Angel said that like he didn't want to say it, so Xander was guessing he was not being good with the sharing of pertinent information. He poked Angel in the ribs. Angel sighed his surrender. "The old courts always had human servants. It was how a Master Vampire showed off his ability to control his own bloodlust, and the older demons only trust vampires who can show that they have that same control."

"Ah." Tonight, Xander would be playing the part of the vampire slave. Well, about half the hotel guests thought he was one, anyway. It wasn't exactly going to damage his sterling reputation with the less-human community. A few even thought Cordelia was a slave, which generally led to some scary glareage in which she either convinced them that they were wrong or she convinced them that she was such a powerful slave she could have them cut into pieces and chucked down the sewer, Xander was never sure which. And then there was the one guest who Spike took for a little 'talk' who never showed up again. All in all, having people assume he was a vampire slave was oddly familiar territory, and he was way more in touch with his potential slaveness than Cordy.

Angel, however, was looking constipated over the topic. "You shouldn't have to—"

Xander cut Angel off before he could get any farther. "Just call me Xand the local slave boy. Do I get my own palm frond to wave over you?" His smile was strained, but bad jokes were part of his job description, and when the going got tough, it was his job to get joking.

"You won't have to do anything," Angel promised.

Spike snorted. "Except for maybe not pushing the sod around while the demon's watching, pet."

Xander frowned at Spike, not really getting his point.

"Let's get this over with," Angel said, pushing Xander toward the door with Spike close behind.

"If this wanker doesn't have anything on the spell, I’m going to go back to Merl and pull his intestines out through his soddin' nose."

"If Merl gave us a bad lead, he's already half way to Kansas by now," Angel answered as they walked through the lobby. The sun had gone down less than an hour ago, but no one had gotten around to turning on any of the lights yet. The lobby had an eerie horror movie vibe as the hall lights from the second floor spilled over the balcony. Xander was practically running to keep up, Angel's arm around his waist. For the first time in the two weeks since the spell had flattened the Scourge, he really felt hopeful that they had a real lead. Xander knew that he would never be suicidal enough to give Spike bad information. Hopefully this Merl had at least as many active brain cells as Xander, and they were on their way to finding the spell and finding a cure.

Angel stopped at the front door and looked back at Spike. "We still aren't leaving until you clean up."

"Bloody fucking wanker," Spike snarled under his breath, but he turned and headed for the stairs up to the second floor rooms at a dead run.

Slowly, Angel's nose twitched as he smelled the air. For a second, Xander thought maybe some of Spike's sewer smell had rubbed off on him, but for once, Spike hadn't been manhandling him. Inch by inch, Angel turned to really study Xander with yellowed eyes.

"Why do ye smell like that?" Angel asked in that creepy Irish voice that meant he was not doing good with his temper.

"Like what?" Xander asked. He tried to sniff at his own underarms, but Angel caught him by both arms, holding him so tight that Xander suspected he was going to have finger-shaped bruises on his biceps. "What?"

"Boy? What have ye been doing?"

Xander was really starting to freak out when Spike's yell drifted down from above.

"Cordelia fed 'im the enné!"

Angel blinked, his yellow eyes vanishing and brown reappearing along with a confused frown. "The enné?"

"It's good. Peppery," Xander agreed. For a second, Angel stared at him and then he just shook his head.

"It dunna matter how much I understand; you continue to confound me." Angel shook his head again and moved to settle an arm comfortably across Xander's shoulders.

"I keep it interesting," Xander said, leaning into Angel. Now he had both hope that they were getting somewhere with untangling Jenny's spell, and just a little worry about just what was in enné. And sadly, it was still better than tofu.


	25. 25

Angel pulled up in front of a store with newspapers lining the windows like it had been abandoned, but the lack of broken glass and the German Sheppard out front were not exactly matching that first impression.

"I still say we should just find the bloody bint and break bones until she gives us the fucking spell," Spike muttered for about the thousandth time. Xander couldn't remember the last time Spike had been this obsessed with breaking a particular person instead of threatening humanity in general.

Xander looked at Angel who was very carefully not making any protest over that suggestion. "Hey, killing humans is on the list of things that will freak your humans out. I say let Riley deal with that mess. Besides, if she's in prison, she gets to be miserable and you get to vicariously torture Giles by making him go through with a divorce. Legal messiness all over." Xander climbed over the seat to get out of the car.

"I'd rather have intestinal messiness all over," Spike answered with a not-nice smile. Sometimes Xander had trouble thinking of Spike as being a soulless predator... not so much today. He had a feeling that if they ran into Jenny Giles on the street, Spike would be very happy to demonstrate his soullessness, and Xander suspected Angel would not be stopping him.

"I'm just going hope that Riley is better at missing persons than you two," Xander said with a sigh. He was not going to win this fight. Vampires were like giant cats with giant catnip balls that they refused to give up when they really put their minds to it.

"So they can give her a swat on the backside and send her dinner without her sweets?" Spike asked with a fake smile that made Xander reach out and try and poke him in the stomach. Unfortunately, vamps also had catlike reflexes.

"Hey! Willow did not cast that spell. She was more spell attached, which was not really great considering Jenny supercharged her mojo finger that way, but it's not like Willow did anything intentionally."

"No, just stupidly," Spike said, and Xander would have defended Willow, but Angel slammed the door to the shop open with so much force that the metal handle crashed into the brick and the glass made a screeching sound that Xander really thought was going to end with broken glass. He definitely needed to ask whoever owned the shop what kind of glass they used because any glass that could stand up to a pissy Angel was worth investing in.

The sad part was that part of Xander got it. Yeah, he trusted Spike and Angel, and if they looked him in the eyes and told him they needed something, he would so give it to them, but he wouldn't just let them drain him of mystical energy or whatever energy he might have bouncing around in his cells. Not without talking about it. Maybe he'd seen one too many cases of possession or something, not to mention one memorable case of soul loss, but he was just not that trusting. And he really wasn't that trusting with Jenny. She creeped him out. But maybe he was just prejudiced against people who knew big freaking secrets that could have gotten him killed and kept them secret for the sake of some hundred year old curse. If he lived to be as old as Anyaka, he still wouldn't be okay with the whole Angelus-soul-happiness secret.

Spike followed Angel into the shop. "Right then, let's get the intel and get back. I don't bloody trust Graham to play guard."

"Cordelia can just nag any invaders to death," Angel suggested before he stopped at a counter nearly buried in books. "Hello?"

A really, really old guy poked his head up from behind a counter full of books. "Yes? Yes? You be wanting something?" For the blink of an eye, the old guy looked 'off,' like his features hadn't quiet kept up with his face when he moved and his nose slid around a bit. Yep, demon. Xander was suspecting that he couldn't even tell what kind of demon because this guy had some sort of camouflage, which explained why Angel had decided to play mostly nice.

"Information," Angel said as he stepped up to the counter and pushed a stack of books out of his way. The old man blinked at him and then at Spike and finally Xander.

"Ah, the new Master. I am U'talaba, always happy to serve. I have books and information on many subjects. Many, many. What can I help you with Master Angel?"

"I need information on a spell that was used north of here 13 days ago. I hear that you track most of the magic in the area and that you can probably help me untangle exactly which spell was used." Angel laid it all out and then stared at the old guy. U'talaba's eyes travelled from one of them to the other, and Xander inched closer to Angel because he was seriously getting the creeps.

U'talaba slowly smiled. "Yes, yes. Information I have. Big spell, yes? But I know nothing about origin, about caster, so I cannot..." he waved a hand inarticulately.

"You can't interpret what you recorded?" Angel supplied. Xander never knew Angel was so good at charades.

"Maybe. New words. English... so imprecise. Too many words. Russian, much more like to talk. You talk Russian?" he asked hopefully. After a second, he shrugged in defeat because they were definitely not going to be talking in Russian. "Tell me what of which you know." U'talaba leaned forward, an expectant look on his face. For a second, Angel didn't answer. He stepped back and slipped an arm over Xander's shoulders while Xander stood there and tried to look like a slave, which wasn't easy because he didn't actually know what one looked like. Maybe he passed, though, because U'talaba smiled so the edges of his eyes crinkled.

"We know it was a chaos spell out of de Aldedelega's Opprimo," Angel said in a tone that suggested he was bored. The tone was a total lie. "A techno-wiccan modified it to key into genetic codes so it would target demons."

That made U'talaba blink really fast. "Bad news. Very bad. Chaos magic like to go 'woosh' everywhere. Techno magic is like," he chopped his hand through the air to suggest getting right to the point. "Bad mixing."

"Bloody know that bit already," Spike said softly. U'talaba looked over at him and did a weird head-bobbing thing.

"Most surprised you did not make this techno-wiccan into dinner... or slave." From the tone of voice, U'talaba would not have been disapproving of a little techno-dinner, and Xander really wasn't sure what to think about that. In Sunnydale, it had always seemed to simple with good on one side and evil on the other... at least until Spike showed up. But L.A. was all about gray. And from the looks of it, this old man who was nicely trying to help them was not actually big on the nice.

"Who said we didn't?" Angel asked with a not nice smile. U'talaba smiled back.

"Ah, stories of your soul... maybe exaggerated?"

"Perhaps," Angel agreed. "I want to know what you know about the spell."

U'talaba ducked his head and tilted it to the side. "Maybe I feel a spell like this. Much..." he held his hands out like he was holding something between them and trying to pull it apart.

"Tension," Angel offered.

U'talaba smiled. "Much tension. The chaos and the order. De Aldedelega, he be rolling in his grave at that spell. It was powerful like elephant. All strength. No grace."

"The demon who helps me undo this spell would make me exceptionally happy and would earn my gratitude." Angel had his used car salesman voice going. Angel liked to call it his seductive voice, but that wasn't exactly the word Xander would use. Then again, used car salesman did actually have to be pretty good at their job, so maybe the tone wasn't that far from seductive. If that was the case, Xander was immune because it always left him wanting to giggle manly and poke Angel for being a goober. Maybe Angel knew that because his arm tightened around Xander just hard enough to hurt a little. Yep, there would be no poking of the vampires in front of U'talaba.

"The gratitude of a true Master Vampire." U'talaba clucked and nodded his head. "Know you the ingredients?"

"Some of them."

U'talaba did a weird bounce move in his excitement. "What?"

Spike and Angel traded a wary look before Angel took a step closer toward U'talaba. "If someone were to waste my time or take information without offering any in return... well, I would not want to be that demon."

"No, no, no. I wish to help am. What ingredients?"

For one more second, Angel just looked at U'talaba before speaking. "Chalcedony, maca root, human bone dust from a hip joint, powdered Kungai skin, and a lot of runes entered into a computer, most of which we don't know. We can reliably say the runes were in either Sanskrit or Skilosh and they included the symbol for water and fire."

U'talaba shook his head sadly. "Bad mixing. But this fit what I feel. I feel the energy. It suck, like a vampire with blood. It pull at all that I am, but the pull is too far away. The Kungai is most important part. Skin has power. Horn... horn is big magic. With Kungai horn, I could undo the bad mixing."

Angel's hand darted out so fast that Xander didn't have time to do more than eep in shock before Angel had dragged the old man half way over the counter. "Be careful before ye promise something, old man. I've left a lot of demons with little more than bruises for not being able to help, but if you make a promise and canna keep it, I will be very unhappy."

"I keep," U'talaba shouted weakly, his hands flailing. "I keep all promise. With Kungai horn, I undo bad mixing. You bring me Kungai horn. It is strong spell, but stupid and one pull... it unweave magic." U'talaba pantomimed pulling something apart with a thread. "I just need Kungai horn."

"Right then, where do I find one?" Spike immediately asked with the sort of smile that suggested he had high hopes that he was going to get to rip it off the Kungai himself.

"Rare. Very rare." U'talaba's look turned cunning. "But I am good friend of Master Vampire Aurelius. I have boy work in basement. He know something about Kungai. You go talk. My English... not good. He speak many demon language. Best of very good with translating. But his Pilixy... worse my English. You talk him."

Angel looked at U'talaba for a long minute, and a little part of Xander was curled up and screaming in fear that this was a trap or that it wasn't a trap and they were going to leave without getting the information or that they would get the information and it would turn out that there wasn't a cure. And a little part of that little part that was screaming at Xander said that if this guy said there wasn't a cure, he was going with Spike when the vamp found Jenny Giles and help tear her into little itty, bitty pieces. And if he was perfectly honest, he wasn't sure he could forgive Willow if this thing didn't have a cure. He'd still love her, but he just wasn't sure he could forgive her.

"Here, here," U'talaba moved to a door, opening it and gesturing. Oh yeah, nothing about this screamed trap, not at all. Angel, however, had his big, bad vamp face on as he walked toward the door without a moment of doubt, and he pulled Xander along with him. Well, if they were going to be in a trap, better to be trapped with Angel than away from. He hooked his fingers in Angel's belt and held on tightly as they went down the creaking wood stairs. Spike stopped at the top and leaned back against the open door, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he watched with a casual air that did not match the way his body was unnaturally still like a coiled snake ready to strike.

At the bottom, Xander could see books, more books and piles of books. One set of shelves held scrolls piled up in triangles and a desk in the middle was nearly buried under the weight of the paper. A man with glasses and a dorky haircut looked up.

"Wesley!?" Xander may have squeaked the name out first, but he was guessing Angel and Spike were as shocked as he was. None of them had expected to find a Watcher in some demon's basement. Well, not without a lot of chains and some torture being involved, and Wesley just looked... well... dusty. He stood up and wiped his hand on his jacket and left behind a streak of dust from the book he'd been handling.

"Mr. Harris, Mr. Angel." He looked up the stairs at Spike who was now crouching at the top of the stairs and peering down. "Mr.... Spike." Westly blinked at them in shock.

"If it isn't the nancy-boy Watcher." Spike sounded amused.

"I have left the Council's employ. I found their philosophy entirely too confining," Wesley said sharply.

Spike did the thing with his eyebrow that meant he totally didn't believe Wesley, but Angel stepped forward before the real prissiness could get started. "We need information on how to find a Kungai horn."

And Wesley did the blinking thing again. "Yes... quite... but I hardly think that's wise."

"Listen up you gormless prat," Spike threatened, but it didn't carry as much weight with Spike still standing at the top of the stairs.

"Spike." Angel stopped Spike's rant before it got started. "Wesley, U'talaba said that you may know where we can find a Kungai horn."

"He did." Wesley looked toward the door like he might go up there and give U'talaba a piece of his very stuffy, English mind, but he had a couple of vampires between him and the guy, and from the way his fingers kept twitching toward his one pocket, Xander was guessing the guy only had one stake. Not that Wesley was particularly scary, even with a stake. However, pushed hard enough, Wesley might try to do something, and given Spike's current mood, Xander was guessing that would be of the bad. Okay, Wesley trying anything with Spike would always be of the bad, but right now, it would be of the bloodletting worse.

"So, Wesley, you're working for a demon. Way to go with the opening of your mind. Demons are people, too." Xander shouldered past Angel and reached for the first thing on Wesley's desk, which turned out to be a huge book that smelled like crayons. "Cool... basement." Xander couldn't quite say that last bit with a straight face.

"That is an original text of the Nor-ck prophesies of Oru!" Wesley sounded so much like Giles for that one second that Xander was almost homesick as Wesley darted out from behind his desk and snatched the book away, clutching it to his chest like it was the baby Xander had been about to sacrifice to some hellgod. "Don't you three have some evil vampires to slay? I assure you that I have no idea where one might find a Kungai. They are a particularly violent and thankfully rare species, and I have not heard of one in this area for quite some time. There was one in Phoenix if you are particularly interested in tracking one down."

The words hit Xander like a punch in the guts. He looked over expecting Angel to have the big brood on, but instead he had that calculating scary look, like when he'd figured out something that you really didn't want him figuring out. Angel moved forward slowly while he shook his head sadly.

"Wesley, Wesley, Wesley." The tone sent shivers up Xander's spine, and Xander wasn't the one getting looked at like the mouse in a cathouse... a house full of cats. "What do you know about the power in a Kungai horn?"

Wesley swallowed several times and held the book closer as he backed away. Ignoring Xander, he focused totally on Angel. "Well, it's rather well known that the Tac horn has the ability to drain life force of a living creature. Parker Fitzwater recorded the phenomenon in the twelfth century. He was a monk. I read his original diary. I was headboy, you know." Wesley's words tumbled out, but then if Angel was looking at him like that, Xander would have developed diarrhea of the mouth, too. "I am quite good with books. In school, they afforded me quite a few privileges normally reserved for full Watchers." Wesley finished weakly.

Angel nodded. "U'talaba is very impressed with your work. He says you have a talent for it." Angel reached up and put his hand over Wesley's. Xander opened his mouth, and for a second, he wasn't sure if he was upset about Angel intimidating Wesley or him touching Wesley.

"Wesley's all kinds of talented." Xander stepped forward and gave Angel a nasty look as he planted himself right next to the big dork. "Well, except when it comes to weapons. Seriously, no offense Wesley, but you're not really big with the weapon talent."

"Yes, quite. I had realized that, thank you for the enlightenment. I assure you that after having a seventeen year old boy who describes his fighting skills as 'marginal' show me up multiple times, I do not have a lot of illusions left on that front. It's one thing to be shown up by a slayer, but to be shown up by—"

"Be careful of the words ye choose, there," Angel warned softly. He pulled the book out of Wesley's hands, and now Wesley's hands hovered in the air. "You see, I would hate to be offended. And U'talaba has assured us that you know where to find a Kungai horn since we need one to undo a spell that removed life force from my friends. If U'talaba was lying, I would be offended. And if yer keeping something from me, I would be even more offended." Angel leaned in, trapping Wesley up against his desk. Slowly, Angel put the book down on the desk, and Wesley started sweating and went absolutely still as Angel had to lean way into his personal space to add the book to an already dangerously high pile.

"But if you were to tell me where to find a horn, I would be grateful. I have no doubt Giles would also be grateful since Buffy was also hurt by this spell."

"Buffy?" Wesley straightened up at that name. "Is Faith alright?"

"What do you care about that? You're not her soddin' Watcher anymore," Spike called down. Yep, it was a good thing for Wesley that Spike was up there and not down with him, and from the startled look on Wesley's face, he knew it.

"I am quite aware of that, but I do still care. Despite the fact that I was sacked over her disappearance, I would not want something to happen to her... her or Ms. Summers."

"Sacked like a funky English fired?" Xander asked.

Wesley blushed. "If you must know, yes. I lost my slayer, which made for a rather questionable employment history. Now if I had simply gotten her killed, they would have welcomed me back into the fold. Cecil Burward's slayer died in her first encounter with a vampire precisely fifty-three minutes after he had taken his position. However, he was welcomed back with open arms. I, on the other hand, committed the ultimate offense. I lost my slayer in that I could not find where she had been placed, which is, apparently, a far greater sin than getting one's slayer killed. We had a difference of opinion over that exact point, and they sacked me. I would have been in a right mess had I not found employment with U'talaba which included room and board. So, yes, I am now a free agent. A man without ties to the old world. A researcher of some repute who has chosen to live free of the constraints of the Council's dictates, and I do still care very much about Faith and Buffy being weakened by a spell. What exactly happened?"

Xander really didn't think it was fair to let Angel bully Wesley, not when the guy had been clearly bullied all the way out of his job, so he started to explain. "We were fighting a group called the Scourge..."

Wesley's gaze snapped over to him. "Paramilitary demons?"

"With delusions of Nazihood," Xander agreed, "very bad taste in uniforms, and a big tinkertoy that threatened to turn all humans into goo. Only there was a witch..."

"A witch? Within the Scourge?" Wesley interrupted again.

"Um, more like a three sided fight with a witch on one side and Scourge on the other and a whole lot of people you know on the third side. But the witch, she cast a spell and it made Faith and Buffy sick. We really need the Kungai horn because U'talaba thinks that with a Kungai horn he can undo the spell because it used Kungai skin."

Wesley looked around, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he visible straightened. "Good lord, any part of a Kungai joined with a magical enchantment could wreck havoc in the hands of the wrong practitioner. Do you know what type of spell might have been used? A chaos spell, necromancy, aeromancy, voodoo?" Wesley looked almost excited.

Xander looked at Angel, not sure how much to tell Wesley. It wasn't like any of them had been around to know how close Wesley might have been to Jenny, and Xander really did not want to get Wesley all defensive so that Angel and Spike went back to bullying. Not that Spike bullied. Angel bullied and threatened, Spike just ripped guts out.

"Cyberwiccan," Angel said without emotion.

The energy drained from Wesley immediately. "Good lord. Jenny Calendar."

"Jenny Giles," Xander corrected him.

Wesley flinched. "I hadn't received that memo. Not that the Council sends me many memos these days. Surely Mr. Giles didn't participate in such an unwise endeavor."

"He didn't," Angel agreed. "Jenny has vanished, and we are both search for a cure. Right now, you are standing between me and the chance that U'talaba can find a cure if he had access to a Kungai horn."

"Oh, right." Wesley almost sounded like he was surprised, like he'd forgotten the question Angel had been bullying him over. Turning around, he pushed aside several notebooks filled with odd symbols until he found a blue folder. "I'm not absolutely sure that I'm right, you understand. The last sighting of a Kungai truly was in Phoenix, and it's pure speculation that his horn might show up in L.A. with or without him, but I had noticed a pattern. Not to boast, but my research skills are quite formidable, and so when I noticed that a number of mystical murders were spaced the exact amount of time it would take one to drive from one location to another, I developed a theory."

Wesley pulled a map out of the folder and unfolded it to show red circles and lines traced over highways. "This is a nasty bugger. He left a trail of bodies, demon and human, with one common denominator... they all had powers. A Peto demon with a poison tongue cut out, a clairvoyant with his head ripped off, a woman with healing hands who had them pulled off her body..."

"Okay, someone killed a healer? That's sounding like something that needs a good slaying," Xander said. There was killing, and then there was the killing of children and healers and priests, which just really was so very wrong.

"While I would normally agree, this particular healer sold her talents to a local mob in Chicago. Those she chose to heal were not the sort of which you and I might approve," Wesley explained. "That is one more reason why I believe the deaths were connected. This killer targeted supernatural beings who had extensive human defenses, but he avoids anyone with a supernatural support network. It does mean that the hunter normally targets the more evil among us since beings who fight for good typically have alliances while evil is more..." Wesley glanced at Angel, and Xander could practically read his thoughts. Yep, Angel had been evil, and from the stories, evil Angel had not been nearly as good with the alliances. Heck, Darla and him kept trying to leave each other to get killed. Spike was about the only evil person Xander knew who did the family thing. Actually, Spike was way better at the family thing than Xander's father, and that was not saying good things about the nature of his father's soul.

Wesley cleared his throat. "Three days ago, the Kungai rumored to live in south Phoenix disappeared under suspicious circumstances, and the killer appears to be working his way back to California."

Wesley started spreading newspaper clippings out over the desk. "And this is the third time I've seen this pattern. Someone starts on the east coast and then works his or her way back to California, collecting various powers on the way. If this person did kill the Kungai as I hypothesize, then he is somewhere near here with the horn."

"So, someone is collecting powers." Angel leaned over the desk and studied the maps and articles spread out over it.

"More than likely. And if that is the case, the demon will be a formidable opponent," Wesley said.

Angel shook his head. "That many powers would have side effects. But there is more than one reason to collect powers. U'talaba is willing to try a counterspell if he gets the horn. How much would something like that sell for?"

Wesley blinked. "I hadn't considered it."

"What? We're looking for a retail shop of evil?" Xander frowned at the idea of his two worst nightmares shoved together into one thing. Shopping with Buffy and Willow had been bad enough, but retail of evil was sounding infinitely worse.

"Makes sense," Spike agreed from his post at the exit. "If demons are involved, the green bean will know where to find them." Lorne really was like a demon Switzerland, neutral and knowing way more than he ever admitted.

"So, we find the collector, get the horn, and Faith is safe as houses in no time," Spike said, and for the first time since Jenny's spell, he actually looked pleased.

"Faith and Buffy and Doyle and that guy from Riley's unit with the rash," Xander corrected him. Spike gave a snort that made it pretty clear he didn't actually care about anyone other than Faith, but that was Spike for you. As good as he was doing the family thing, he didn't really do friendly alliance well.

"To attempt to use the horn in any sort of palliative or curative measure could prove counterproductive." Wesley stopped when Angel moved forward, his shoulders rolling like a panther that just found a bunny rabbit in his cage with him. Actually, Angel was moving in a way that Xander normally associated with Spike and imminent death.

"We will get the horn, and if U'talaba needs any assistance, you will make sure that this is not a counterproductive spell." Angel gave a real Angelus smile, one that made Xander's mouth go dry and that made Wesley lose all the blood out of his face. Xander should probably explain to Wesley that vampires had more fun playing with you when you looked like you were about to pee in your pants.

Xander cleared his throat. "Um, shouldn't we be doing something about evil retail?" he asked Angel.

At first, Angel didn't seem to have heard. He just continued with the Angelus smile, but then he shook his head, like he was just coming up from under the water, and looked over at Xander. "Which part?" Angel asked. "If we shut down the evil buyers, the sellers will just find more. If we shut down the sellers, then they stop taking out the original owners of the evil objects. If we try to confiscate every evil object—" Angel didn't finish, but Xander could see where that was going.

"Oh bloody hell. If you lot get off on that, we're never going to focus on getting the bloody Kungai horn for the spell. We can worry about the rest of the moral shite later. So, are we going to take the horn away from the wankers or pay for it? I know which one I prefer." Spike smiled and morphed into gameface. Wesley didn't scream or squeal or do anything too unmanly, but he came close. Xander remembered a day when that had been him, and he was clearly a bad person because watching someone else deal with Spike was amusing him.

"What if the guy who grew the horn wasn't evil? I mean, are we sure these are evil people torturing evil people?" Xander asked.

Surprisingly, it was Wesley who spoke up even if he was still looking like he was close to the peeing of his pants. "It is quite admirable to question the moral turpitude of those involved in such nefarious goings on, but..."

"But we don't bloody care," Spike cut him off.

"You don't bloody care. I kinda bloody care," Xander said with an exasperated glare. Sure, he didn't understand anything Wesley was saying, but at least he was willing to talk about this.

"Xander." Angel stopped and just looked at him, and now Xander knew he finally had Angel's attention.

"I know we need the horn, and hey, I am totally okay with taking the horn or buying the horn or if someone gets in our way letting Spike eviscerate them for the horn." Spike's smile made it pretty clear which option he'd vote for. "But should we leave the auction up and running?"

Angel frowned. "There might be a few good people involved. Some buyers could be looking for cures." His frown deepened. "However, some of the merchandise might be stolen from demons who were fighting evil," he admitted with an unhappy expression.

"So, the Kungai could have been a good guy and someone ripped his horn off his head... please someone tell me we are talking about a horn on a head." Xander looked around, but before Spike could start making up some story like he had with the enné, Wesley nodded.

"Indeed, right in the center of the forehead."

"Okay, then how do we know we aren't buying the body part of some poor demon who was just walking to work one day when 'bam' some horn collector jumped out from behind a bush because that...." Xander eeped when Spike caught him by the front of the shirt and dragged him forward until they were nose to nose. Okay, clearly Spike had moved away from the door at some point.

"I don't soddin' care if I have to find some git walking to work and rip something off him myself, I'm getting Faith her fucking cure."

"Spike," Angel warned. Out of the side of his eye, Xander could see Wesley's hands fluttering like he didn't know what to do with them. Xander just reached up and patted Spike. Father Peter might say that love required a soul, but Xander knew two things: Spike didn't have a soul and Spike loved everyone in his odd little clan.

"And I am oddly okay with that plan. We need the Kungai horn, so we'll take it," Xander promised him. "I'm just wondering if we shouldn't burn the auction down or do some slayage while we're there."

Spike frowned at him for a second and then let go. "That'd be a bit of alright," Spike said with a casual sniff like he hadn't been thoroughly pissed off two seconds ago. He let go of Xander, but he slung an arm over Xander's shoulder and pulled him close. Angel's eyebrow went up, but he didn't comment.

"A Kungai is evil by definition," Angel said, stepping closer. Reaching out, he caught Xander by the arm and pulled him away from Spike. For a second, Spike held on, his lips curling into a smirk before he let go. With an oomph, Xander hit Angel's side, and then Angel's arm was over his shoulder and pulling him tight. If vampires were cats, he was the catnip ball. "Like vampires," Angel continued, totally ignoring Spike's smirk and Wesley's slightly panicked expression, "a Kungai lives by draining others, but they drain the lifeforce and leave nothing but dust behind when they feed. If we had a Kungai was in the area, I would track it down and kill it."

"And you would have left the soddin' horn behind, so that would have been a waste," Spike interrupted.

"Yes, well, I would certainly not want to distract you from your imminent battle with the nefarious forces of evil." Wesley gave a ragged laugh. "I have some translations to tend to. Very difficult. A rare dialect of Fil'ta. Quite a daunting task." He was backing away, and Spike cocked his head.

"Wesley, thank you," Angel offered. Spike gave Wesley a thorough and predatory looking over, and Wesley lost what little color he had in his face. Spike smirked before heading for the door without a word.

"Quite alright." Wesley sat down so fast that Xander thought his knees had probably failed him. Angel and Spike had sort of left him alone back in Sunnydale. He was in Buffy's camp, and that made him persona non toucha. Not so much now.

Angel turned around and started for the door without letting Xander go.

"Hey! Thanks and it was really nice seeing you," Xander called over his shoulder as Angel pushed him toward the stairs. Wesley just waved his hand with a vague gesture. Yep, he was freaking in his own very English sort of way.

Upstairs, U'talaba sat on a low bench and twirled two strands of something stringlike together. "He is good, yes? Very smart."

"If this information turns out to be good." Angel stopped, his arm tightening around Xander protectively, but it was just U'talaba and his stool.

"He always gives good information. More people should get themselves an old Watcher. They make good workers." U'talaba sounded very friendly, but something about the way he said that made Xander's arm hairs stand up and start looking around. "The Watchers have the patience to train them right."

"It probably helps that he worked for the Slayers," Angel offered mildly, but the deathgrip on Xander arm didn't exactly support the idea that he was feeling mild.

"You know how it is. People like to brag. They had their translation done by a minion of one of the great Slayers." U'talaba smiled showing teeth that were too pointed for a human. "Good for business, but it is the Watchers who trained him to be so good a worker." U'talaba nodded. "His information good. Go find the horn, and I will undo what the clumsy witch did."

Angel tipped his head in U'talaba's direction before pushing Xander out into the night air. Outside, Spike was leaning against the car with barely contained impatience.

"Don't bloody care if you want to burn the place down after, but you get Lorne on that phone and find out where we find this demon with the horn." Spike took a deep drag on his cigarette so the end lit his face with a demonic glow... or that might have been the fact that he was still in gameface.

"Are we going to burn them down?" Xander asked. He pushed the seat forward so he could climb in back.

"Seems pointless. We might need 'em later." Spike slammed the door closed and then leaped over it to land in the passenger seat. "Then again, a good fire is a right treat—all that screamin' and burnin'. I bloody loved China with the whole fucking country on fire and everyone tryin' to kill everyone else."

Angel gave Spike a dirty look before he moved to the front of the car to talk on the phone. Hopefully Lorne would help without them having to drive down to Caritas to sing or threaten Lorne.

"You do know I'm not really into randomly burning things down." Xander thought back to his early days with Buffy, back when he'd been as dweebish as Wesley and he'd been pretty much into burning any and all demons he could find. He definitely would have burned down U'talaba's place, and now he was wondering whether his new or his old instincts were better. "Anymore," he added. "But if they're evil..."

"You're as bad as Peaches, some days, pet. They're evil the way Wall Street or the soddin' Congress is evil. They spread shite around and try and suck up all the money and every once in a while, someone good gets chewed up and spit out. If ya want to bloody burn them to the ground, I don't really care, but don't go getting your knickers in some sort of moral twist. That's Peaches' job."

Xander pulled the seatbelt across his lap. "Is it a bad sign when the soulless demon makes sense?"

Spike blew a cloud of smoke out into the night air. "I always make sense, pet. I don't have all that guilt clogging up my brains."

"Hey, guilt is not what's clogging my brains." Xander frowned because that wasn't exactly what he'd meant to say. However, he didn't have a chance to correct himself—Spike was laughing too loudly.

"Hotel Ramsey," Angel said as he got in behind the wheel. "A demon named Barney runs a regular auction offering up magical parts. So, are we taking them out when we get the horn?"

He started the car and checked over his shoulder before pulling out into traffic. Xander didn't realize Angel was asking him until he reached up to adjust the rearview mirror so he could see Xander's reflection. Part of Xander wanted to play hero and rush in there and do the slay thing... or the watching vamp backs while they did the slay thing and he stood around with his cinquedea. They were evil, and evil should die. But if they stuck with that rule, they'd have to track down most of the politicians, and Xander was pretty sure those guys were human and killing them was on the 'no' list. He was a big fan of less evil in the world, but he wasn't the one to be making the big decisions about who was evil enough to deserve getting taken out. He wasn't even sure that getting rid of Barney would mean less evil because Wesley made it sound like he was pretty good at killing evil, even if he was kinda evil. For that matter, Spike was evil, and if they let Spike do his Spiky thing, it seemed unfair to not let Barney to his Barney-y thing. Unless he did something particularly evil to them, anyway.

Xander sighed. "You could just make up your own mind... you know, without making me question my moral boundaries." Since Angel didn't have a reflection, Xander couldn't see his face, but he knew what the silence meant. "Fine, we get the horn and let Barney be Barney, but if he tries selling me or, you know, someone not evil, he gets put on the slay list."

Angel nodded and hit the accelerator.


	26. 26

Angel pulled Xander closer as they walked through the hotel's back room. Demonic chests, body parts, shriveled heads and idols were strewn across folding tables, each with a small number on a tag attached. He could smell Xander's distress, and he wondered if Xander had changed his mind about burning the place down once they got the horn. Angel could feel the violent glee at that prospect, and he reminded himself that he would have to pull the fire alarm and give the humans in the rooms above a chance to get out first.

"Creepsville," Xander said softly. "It's like paradise only for really twisted people who think Poe and Quentin Tarantino make for good bedtime stories."

A young man went rushing by them, his arms held out like he was about to hug a long-lost friend. "Oh! Look! I really want one of these." He stopped just short of a mummy, which was good because it was covered in rotting bandages. "Buy me this one."

An older woman in spiked heels and a business suit followed. She had an indulgent look on her face as she agreed.

"Bloody idiots," Spike said softly.

"Oh yeah. Fools in fool's paradise, and please tell me that fool can't use the mummy to end the world or perform any apocalypsy fun." Xander turned to Angel.

Angel looked at the misshapen artifact. "It might eat him," Angel finally concluded.

"And I'm thinking that's only fair in a Darwinian kind of way."

Angel didn't know how to answer that. Certainly he didn't feel any sympathy for the young man who was almost dancing around the mummy, but Angel was a demon. Xander was a human, and he still wasn't bothered by the high likelihood that this overly enthusiastic young man was about to become part of the food chain.

"Bloody hell, let's just get on with it," Spike said, and that effectively interrupted any introspection on Angel's part.

"This way." Angel started walking toward the office area. Smaller artifacts were lined up on tables in this area. It occurred to Angel that this Barney would pay a lot to get the Gem of Amara, and Angel calculated the cost of adding a little more security onto the hotel.

They definitely needed to either bring in more guests or go raid some treasure. Angel had heard rumors of a necromancer who had a very large treasure and an even larger library. Of course, it was insanely dangerous for vampires to go after a necromancer, but Spike was nearly dancing with glee at the thought of trying, and if this worked, Faith and Graham would be available for a raid. It would solve both their current difficulties with dwindling finances and provide them with more research material. And it would make Cordelia happy. Angel had quickly discovered that the entire hotel tended to match Cordelia's mood. If she was stressed over money, Spike would break something, Xander would get upset about whatever Spike had broken, Graham would get tense around Spike, and Faith would snap at Spike for making Graham uncomfortable. Life was easier when Cordelia was happy. Sometimes it worried Angel just how much Cordelia and Darla had in common, but at least this time he wasn't sharing a bed with the queen bee.

Angel glanced over at Xander who was looking around, his expression caught between horror and fascination. The idea that Xander would be in his bed within days... within hours... it was terrifying. Angel knew how to dominate Spike and he knew how to get dominated. Darla's training wasn't something he cared to think about, but he certainly knew how to placate a dominant lover in bed. However, Angel wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with Xander.

"Okay this place? Officially weird," Xander said with an exaggerated grimace. "And if you lose me the way my mother lost me in K-mart when I was seven, I'm never forgiving you."

Angel blinked, shocked at the evidence that Xander would ever suspect that. Reaching out, Angel caught Xander by the neck and pulled him close, enjoying the warmth. "If you wander more than two steps, I'll track you down."

Spike smirked over at them. "We could probably pick the boy up a leash if you'd like," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. Spike was enjoying Angel's discomfort a little too much, and the worst part was that he probably understood the dilemma that Angel was in. After all, Spike had already made the transition to having sex with humans... sex that didn't involve broken bones and bloodletting. Angel glared at the younger vampire.

"You try it and I'll... I'll..." Xander sputtered, struggling to come up with a threat good enough. "I'll tell people you're addicted to Passions!" Xander finally blurted. "I'll have Graham put it on the webpage!"

"You soddin' little..."

"Enough," Angel cut them off before they could get into a war of mutual threats and blackmail. A woman was walking straight toward them, her dark eyes focused right on Angel, and this did not look like a casual interest.

"Ah, Mr. Angel." The woman walked up to them, and Angel stepped forward to get between her and Xander. Her tailored suit and briefcase suggested that she was a broker or a buyer, and if she wanted to buy Xander, Angel was going to have her for lunch. It would distract him from his aggravation with Spike. Xander sighed, but since he didn't loudly complain and poke Angel in the ribs, Angel assumed that was a sort of tacit agreement that this woman was dangerous.

"Yes?" Angel narrowed his eyes and looked at her. He considered the length of time it would take her to die if he started stripping off her skin. While he didn't actually plan to try that, Spike and Xander agreed that tended to have his most intimidating expression when he indulged in that fantasy, and he needed this woman to understand that he didn't want her near. Unfortunately, she didn't seem bothered by his expression.

"I'm Connie Whither, from Wolfram and Hart. I wanted to introduce myself." She put her hand out and offered him an unctuous smile. Angel stared at her. Russell Winters had used the law firm before Angel had killed him, and there were rumors of other demons hiring the lawyers. As far as Angel was concerned, working for demons put you on some pretty thin ice. He was fairly sure Xander would approve of terrorizing the woman since her law firm had tried to defend Winters when he'd kidnapped Cordelia.

"Whoa, the crazy vampire businessman's law firm? The people who tried to defend the vamp who grabbed Cordelia?" Xander asked with a fear coloring his voice. Angel didn't like that tone. He also thought the tone pretty much confirmed his first guess. This woman was on some thin moral ice. One wrong move, and Spike would be having fresh blood for dinner.

Angel narrowed his eyes and took a step toward the woman. "If ye have something to say, say it quick." Angel noted that Spike had moved back to Xander's side, defending him.

"Yes, we did represent Mr. Winters, but there are certainly no hard feelings there. Vampire culture has its own laws, and while we would have attempted to negotiate on his behalf, you were clearly well within your rights." Angel could hear the strain in her voice. She wasn't lying... not outright, but not everyone agreed with that assessment. Taking another step forward, Angel moved within inches of her. Tiny drops of sweat gathered at her hairline, and she smelled of the musk that came not with terror, but with the emotion that preceded it--a sort of nervous awareness of mortality. "We simply wish to offer our services to you."

"Services?" Spike asked, and the sarcasm in his voice made it clear what he thought of that offer.

"An evil door-to-door salesman in an evil auction, who woulda thunk?" Xander said quietly, echoing Spike's displeasure with his own odd sort of mangled English.

"We offer a wide range of services beyond the normal legal firm. For example, we have an establishment that presents demon gladiator fights. Normally, vampires are not a popular attraction. While I would never want to offend you, the fact is that the normal minion does not present any sort a challenge for the demon fighters. However, if you are interested, I'm sure the crowd would love to bet on a Master Vampire, and we could arrange a profit sharing plan for our mutual benefit." Angel sub vocalized a growl, warning Spike to stay out of it before he signed himself up. By insulting vampires as a race, she was clearly attempting to manipulate Spike. The boy simply could not resist any challenge to his strength. Of course, Angel understood that insecurity entire too well since he had created it.

"I don't see any reason why I would be interested in your profits," Angel pointed out coldly. She simply smiled.

"I would not expect you to take any interest. That's the advantage of our law firm. We are a neutral party out to secure profits for ourselves and our clients. We have no political motives other than money, so you can be assured that we will always act in the best interest of our financial future. You would be a significant draw in the fights--you or Master Spike--and we would be willing to share those significant profits in order to secure a share for ourselves."

Angel studied her. From what he'd heard in the demon communities, Wolfram and Hart was far from neutral, but then evil people shied away from announcing their own nefarious motives. Certainly Angelus had only showed his true nature once he has his prey in the trap. However, that left him wondering what trap Wolfram and Hart was preparing. "Not interested," Angel said shortly.

"Or," she hurried to say as Angel started to turn away, "we could arrange to use your hotel for accommodations. From what we've heard, you have done a remarkable job with the restoration." She smiled at Xander, and Angel growled, his eyesight slipping into the gray, sharp-edged vision of the demon. The woman had the grace to turn pale and take a step back. "We represent a number of politicians, demonic clan leaders... diplomats. We would pay top dollar for a demon-friendly luxury hotel."

Angel studied the woman, but her vacuous smile didn't reveal anything of any interest.

"Master Angel!" A floppy eared demon who clearly shopped for obnoxiously colorful shirts at the same stores as Xander hurried up to him. Reaching out, he grabbed for Angel's hand without even pausing. Clearly he was stupid. "U'talaba said to expect you, and can I just say I am really excited about doing business with you. You are just the hottest thing to hit L.A. since pastel colors during the Miami Vice craze. So, I hear you're looking for a Tak horn, and I have just the merchandise for you. That boy of U'talaba's really knows his business if he spotted my trail from the newspapers, huh?"

Angel's vision turned human again as he studied the strange demon that was shaking his hand enthusiastically. If he didn't know Xander was completely human, Angel would have been tempted to assume that they were related.

"Barney?" Angel asked.

"That's me. Your procurer of all things of power. Healing hands, visionary eyes... Tak horns—I have it all. But for you, I'm just your good old buddy, Barney."

"Is it just me, or did anyone else expect bigger, musclier and scarier when Wesley described a killer of killers and other really big, scary stuff?" Xander asked in a slightly bewildered voice.

"Hey, kid, don't go judging a book by his skin," Barney suggested. "Of course now that I know how U'talaba's ex-Watcher tracked me, I clearly need to change my MO a little."

"Ex-Watcher?" Connie Whither's face grew speculative. Angel mentally cursed. Barney might not be as physically intimidating as Xander had expected, but Angel suspected he had just done far more damage than a rampaging Moira demon. Damn. Clearly, they would have to move to get Wesley out of U'talaba's place more quickly than Angel had planned. And hopefully, he could do it without Xander realizing that U'talaba had effectively enslaved Wesley. Xander would consider that a sin worthy of slaying, and Spike always wanted to kill, so that would make it two against one in favor of killing U'talaba. Angel would prefer to avoid that. The demon had connections, and more than that, he had power that Angel still didn't understand, and that made him nervous.

"Some new slave U'talaba picked up," Barney said dismissively. Angel kept his best stoic face on, even when Xander turned and looked at him with undisguised horror. Damn it. If Xander weren't here, Angel would wring Barney's neck like one of his grandmother's cheesecloth bundles with the curds tucked inside the rough fabric. Only, Angel would squeeze until Barney's brains started leaking instead of whey.

"How interesting," Whither said as if Wesley and U'talaba were the least interesting topics in the world. Angel wasn't buying her faked disinterest. "Do consider our offer, Mr. Angel. Wolfram and Hart is always looking for profitable partners, and we could make a lot of money together." She looked over at Xander and Spike and tipped her head in respect. "So nice to meet you Mr. Harris, Mr. Pratt." Angel could feel every muscle tense at the evidence that this lawyer had done her research. No one alive knew Spike's original name, and she threw the name around as if the information were so easily come by that it didn't matter. That kind of arrogance suggested that either Wolfram and Hart was far more powerful than Angel had thought or that they had paid dearly for that information, and they'd been waiting for a chance to drop it into some conversation just to convince Angel of their power.

Angel traded looks with Spike. All the playfulness had vanished, and Spike was dangerously still and ready to attack. Angel weighed the dangers. Whither was just a minion of the real power, however. Killing her would only serve to give Wolfram and Hart an inflated sense of their own ability to worry Angel.

"Don't expect a call," Angel said shortly. Barney looked from the lawyer to them and back in clear confusion. "Let's discuss the terms of sale on the Tak horn," Angel said, facing Barney even though he tracked the lawyer's every move with his hearing.

"The auction is tomor—" Barney choked off the last word, probably because Angel had reached out and grabbed him by the throat.

"Let's understand each other," Angel said in a friendly voice. Spike gave a little bounce. "I've had a really difficult day. A technomage attacked my clan, and when I find her, I'm going to pull her intestines out the smallest possible hole I can make in her stomach." With his free hand, Angel reached out and slipped a finger between the buttons of Barney's shirt and stroked the skin beneath. "I'm having fantasies of eviscerating something with a beating heart, and I can either take the Tak horn and work on undoing the technomage's spell or I can indulge in a little torture while I wait for someone to find this woman for me." Angel smiled and let that piece of information soak in. "How would you like me to spend the next hour?" Angel tilted his head to the side and considered Barney. His pinkish skin was turning a much brighter shade of red and he was making little inarticulate noises.

"Um, I think he needs to breathe, Angel," Xander said softly.

"Oh." Angel tried to hide his own embarrassment at forgetting that. He loosened his hold, and Barney noisily sucked air in.

"But for you, we can do a private sale," Barney said, his voice a rough whisper. "How does $10,000 sound?"

"Unreasonable," Angel said sharply.

"Because it is," Barney agreed with a strained smile, patting Angel on the forearm. "Because we're friends, and we don't make a profit off each other... or kill each other. I would never charge my friend more than $4,000. I have it right over there," Barney waved his hand toward a table. Angel looked over, and he could see the Tak horn with its tag. Angel nodded and Spike headed for the table, pulling Xander along with him.

Slowly, Angel let go of Barney's neck and patted him on the shoulder, mimicking Barney's desperate and placating gesture. "It's good to have friends," Angel said as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

Barney was holding his neck with both hands, but he nodded his agreement. Angel pulled the money out and counted out the hundred dollar bills. "I'm five hundred short. I'll have to have the last part of the payment sent over." Angel handed Barney $3,500 and watched for any sign that the demon was about to call in security. For a second, Angel thought he might be considering it, but Angel reached over and patted Barney on the cheek the way one might a child. "After all, friends trust each other, right? If you didn't trust me, you wouldn't let me leave without the last of the payment and if I didn't trust you, I'd rip you apart and throw your decapitated head at the first guard to show his face."

For a second, Barney didn't breathe. Hell, most of the patrons who were inspecting the exhibits held their breath. "Of course. I have absolute trust in you, Master Angel. You're quickly becoming the most important Master in L.A. You certainly run the only traditional court on the West Coast. In fact, I insist that you take the horn for $3,500. It's more than fair. Maybe you could let me leave a few brochures at your hotel? Advertise my services? You know, one friend helping out another?" Barney's words tumbled out, and he smelled of desperation and hope.

"Call Cordelia. If you can get her to agree, you have my permission." Angel turned toward the exit, but he kept an eye out for Barney. Unless Angel missed his guess, Angel didn't have anything to fear from him at this point, though. Barney was looking at him with awe and excitement. Angel jerked his head, and Spike took point, Xander right behind him as they headed for the exit. Angel kept to the rear, covering their retreat. He wasn't even all the way to the door before Barney turned to a human who'd been hovering in the background during the entire conversation.

"Do you hear that? Master Angel is going to let me advertise in his hotel if I can get past his major domus."

Angel sighed, wondering if it would placate Cordelia to know that the demon community was about to promote her from human slave to majordomo. Probably not. The title wouldn't reduce her work load, but maybe Angel could do something about that, too.

Outside, Xander moved away from Spike and back to Angel's side. Angel raised an arm and let Xander slip into place against his side. The warmth of Xander's body reminded Angel that he wasn't the demon he once had been, no matter how good it felt to intimidate Barney and feel the awe and respect as people looked at him and saw a Master Vampire—not a souled abomination known for crawling through alleys for a century.

"U'talaba thinks he owns Wesley?" Xander asked.

"Ya just now figuring that one out, pet?" Spike turned around and looked at Xander like he was a particularly cute and slightly stupid dog. Angel glared at Spike, silently warning him to play nice. Spike was probably still stinging from Xander's threat to publicize his Passions obsession.

"Hey, I think I'm figuring it out way faster than Wesley. You do know that Wesley doesn't know that he's U'talaba's slave, right?" Xander looked from one of them to the other. "We aren't going to just let him stay enslaved, right?"

Angel sighed. He was aware. "We'll deal with that after we get the spell we need. We're not going to abandon Wesley," he promised. They reached the car, and Angel looked back at the hotel.

"Should we take the auction out?" Angel asked. He'd asked Xander before, but now Xander had seen just how much power and how many dangerous artifacts were together in this one place.

Xander sighed and shrugged and gave a lop-sided grin that looked like the one he used when he'd performed particularly badly on a test at school. "Lots of things creep me out. Like the Barney that's on TV. That's way worse than this Barney. There is something very wrong about getting kids to hug a purple dinosaur. If you see a purple dinosaur, running and screaming in terror would be way better reactions than hugging. So trust me, you are not going to be able to uncreepify the world."

Angel tightened his arm around Xander's shoulders. He remembered a day when Xander would have asked for exactly that. He wasn't sure whether it was good or bad that Xander was willing to accept a certain level of evil in the world.

"Let's go get a cure for Faith," Angel said.

"About bloody fucking time." Spike leaped over the door and landed in the passenger side seat and propped a boot on the dash of Angel's car.

Angel walked around to the driver's side and opened the door and pulled the seat forward so Xander could climb in.

"Harry will be very happy if Doyle gets well enough to travel, because I really think they're going to get back together, which is hard to do if Doyle is here and Harry is off learning demon table manners," Xander said. "Although I'm almost a little sorry, because Harry and Blair would have been really cute together. They would have had kids so smart that the rug rats would have been making fun of me before they got to the third grade, but Blair and Harry would have been cute together."

Angel listened to Spike and Xander chat about who should pair up with whom as he pulled into the traffic. Considering his own fears that he would not live up to Xander's expectations, that was not a conversation he planned to join in. Besides, right now, he couldn't think past getting Faith her cure. That and trying to figure out a way to get Wesley away from U'talaba and Wolfram and Hart.

Life was just never simple. He remembered Whistler once warning him about perfect happiness. Angel certainly didn't see himself being in any danger of that. If he didn't get Wesley before Wolfram and Hart bought him, he doubted he was ever going to be even slightly happy ever again. Sometimes it occurred to Angel that Spike and Xander were not all that different. Inside the auction, Xander had walked away from a young man who was most likely going to get eaten by a demon mummy, but he wanted to save Wesley from a situation where he was safe and happy and enslaved. Yeah, Xander was far more protective of his people than of people in general, and clearly Xander wanted to save Wesley. So, they'd be saving Wesley.

If life got any more complicated, Angel was going to have to start keeping "To Do" lists. Save Wesley, make Cordelia happy, figure out what Wolfram and Hart was up to, and do it all before they ran out of money. No wonder he'd spent a century living in alleys; it was simpler.


	27. 27

Angel kept his hand on Wesley's back, ushering him into the hotel. The man seemed to just drift to a stop when not pushed, like all the revelations of the past hour had drained him of energy or the ability to form his own thoughts, which had been a blessing of a sort. It had facilitated the transfer of custody. When U'talaba had brought out the enslavement parchment with the spell and Wesley's signature, the man had been too astounded to do more than stare.

"Big A!" Faith yelled from the top of the stairs about a half second before she flung herself down them, using full slayer strength to take the whole length in four leaps. "Oh yeah. The big man gets the job done again! Graham just got off the phone with Riley, and Buffy is five by five, too, so your big mojo-maker did good."

"And Doyle?" Angel asked. He gave Wesley a bit of a push, and Angel's newly-acquired slave wandered to the center couch and sat. He didn't even bother putting down the box of dusty books he was carrying; he just held them in his lap.

Faith stopped right in front of Angel. "He and Harry couldn't find any food that wasn't demonic or growing mold, so they went out to find some food." Faith gave Wesley a quizzical look before raising an eyebrow at Angel.

"Bloody hell, you could offer a hand, wanker," Spike complained as he balanced two boxes and held the door for Xander and his one box.

"Let me." Faith trotted across the floor, all sign of weakness gone as she plucked the box out of Xander's arms. "Where to, boytoy?"

"Library," Xander told her before he headed for the couch. He'd been sticking close to Wesley ever since Wesley had discovered his slavery, and Angel was trying hard to strangle the creeping jealousy that kept wrapping around his heart. "Hey, why don't you give me those?" Xander reached out, but he had to physically take the books away from Wesley because the man still wasn't reacting. Xander gave Angel a concerned look, but Angel had no idea how to help. Wesley was out of danger now, so Angel didn't understand the fear that leaked from his pores.

"And let the weirdness begin," Xander sighed as he put Wesley's box on the floor.

"If you bring weirdness home, you'd better leave it outside the door," Cordelia said as she came out of the office. She stopped and stared at Wesley. "Who brought the geek?"

Wesley's gaze rose to meet hers, but he still didn't answer, and he had an expression that Angel couldn't describe. Even his years as Angelus failed to provide any memory of any human who had ever looked so very lost—at least not without significant torture.

"Way with the rude, Cordy," Xander complained.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Geeks think 'geek' is a compliment. So, why is he here?"

Angel tried to find a kind way to describe the situation, something that wouldn't further traumatize the man who looked ready to crumble. He took too long.

"Peaches bought him," Spike offered as he strode back into the lobby. Crossing the lobby, he stopped in front of Cordelia, and the two of them exchanged an expression of longing and lust and trust. Spike cocked his head to the side and brought his fingers up to brush Cordelia's cheek. "You wanted some help around the place. A slave's nearly as good as a minion."

"Okay, I think we all need to ixnay with the ave-slay." Xander glared, but Spike didn't even bother breaking eye contact with Cordelia. Angel made a mental note to beat some information out of Spike because whatever had been worrying Cordelia lately, other than their dwindling resources, it was not solving itself. Pretty soon, his to-do list was going to require an entire scroll.

"I rather doubt anyone has any interest in avoiding that topic," Wesley said with a sigh. Angel flinched back from the raw emotion there. He hated the feeling of glee he got at Wesley's misery, but he couldn't deny that the power, and the contract in his pocket, were stained with this odd pleasure. While it didn't make him a good man by any stretch of the imagination, no amount of confession or prayer—or on his bad nights, Irish whiskey—could make Angel stop enjoying the little miseries of certain people. Giles was one. Clearly, Wesley was another.

"I know I plan on bringing it up whenever I can," Spike agreed with a wicked smile.

"Assions-Pay!" Xander warned with a glare. Spike's eyes narrowed and he glared back. Angel sighed as they started bickering again. He still wasn't sure whether Spike would have eviscerated Xander or bedded him if they'd met without Angel being around; however, they certainly enjoyed torturing each other.

"Not to interrupt the testosterone, but would anyone like to explain?" Faith jumped up onto the reception desk and pulled her feet up under her. "If this has something to do with those stick-up-the-ass watchers, I am voting 'no.'"

"I've parted ways with the council," Wesley said, but his voice carried none of the bravado or defiance he'd used to make that announcement earlier. He sagged like a deboned fish. It was not a pleasant sight; at least, not unless you were a sadist secretly enjoying a former enemy twisting in your power.

Graham trotted down the stairs, a wide smile on his face, but he wasn't more than halfway down when he stopped and scanned the room. When he saw Wesley, he frowned, but then he had known Wesley before and now the man looked like he'd been kicked once too often. Angel resisted the urge to defend himself since he had not been the one to put the expression on Wesley's face. Then again, after he and Spike had nearly broken Graham in their attempt to get information out of him, Angel imagined that Graham had a right to assume the worst. But at least Graham had his loyalties settled enough to watch and wait instead of challenging them.

"And we are all in favor of the parting," Xander told Wesley with a comforting pat on the knee." The look Wesley gave him in return suggested that he didn't appreciate the gesture, and Angel gritted his teeth. Just because Wesley needed to be taught manners and just because Angel wanted to make him just a little miserable, that did not give him the right to torture the man. Father Peter was going to have Angel doing penance until the next Armageddon at this rate.

"There was some confusion, and it turns out that U'talaba kinda owned Wesley," Xander explained to the room. From the confused looks, the others were going to require more explanation.

Angel took a step forward, and the others looked at him expectantly. "Wesley signed what he believed to be an employment contract. It was an enslavement contract with a binding spell."

Wesley grimaced, but he didn't protest Angel's description of events. "In my defense, Pilixy is an exceptionally difficult language. The difference in declination in the verbs referring to Pilix and non-Pilix can alter the interpretations..."

"And can I tell you right now that absolutely no one understands what you're saying?" Xander interrupted. "Okay, Angel might, but probably not. Anyway, Wesley decided to come hang out with us, so he's going to be taking your old room Cordelia."

Cordelia narrowed her eyes. "And why am I giving up my room?"

"Because you don't sleep in it anymore?"

Angel leaned against the wall and watched this contest. Xander might understand moral issues better than Angel, but he didn't understand women or status.

"Then give him yours. It's about time you moved into Angel's room anyway."

"Really, I don't mind a guest—" Wesley was cut off.

"But you've already moved in with Spike... or Spike moved in with you... but there's an extra room whichever way you look at it."

"And there will still be an extra room when Wesley is in your old room and you move in with Angel." Cordelia's expression turned sharp, and maybe Xander knew he was out of his depth because he looked over at Angel for help. However, Angel had lived long enough to know that he was not going to contradict Cordelia unless it were an issue worth the suffering she would inevitably cause.

"Not to interrupt your argument," Graham said as he walked in, "but are you saying that you bought Wesley?" His voice rose on the word 'bought.'

"Soddin' right we did," Spike offered cheerfully. Too cheerfully. Xander glared at him again.

"Wait. You bought like with money?" Cordelia started glaring at Spike, but she turned her glare on Angel within seconds.

"Yes, with money," Angel said firmly. He wouldn't debate rooms, but he would defend his right to bring Wesley home. "We'll be fine." From the look Cordelia gave him, she didn't believe him, but she would wait until they were alone because she lectured him again about how money just didn't last like it had in 1750.

"No worries, luv. It's more like we leased to own."

"Leased?" Graham crossed his arms. Angel desperately wanted to just go upstairs and avoid all these condemning looks and the scent of frustration and the feelings that were dredged up from his own soul when he was around his humans too much.

"I assure you, I will pay my own way." Wesley straightened up. "I have made this error, and I will not ask others to cover for my inability to correctly translate a verb. The thought had occurred to me that the salary he was offering was rather impressive for someone who had not yet proven his abilities." Wesley sighed. "I guess I should be grateful that my translation services do bring in a significant income. I shudder to think what U'talaba would have done had I not met my weekly quota."

Xander leaned closer. "Hey, anyone could have confused quota and salary. Salary, minimum quota, yep, very confusable."

Angel loved Xander, but even he had to admit that sometimes Xander's attempts at reassurance left him doubting whether Xander's logic had ever fully formed. From the way Wesley was looking at Xander, he was wondering the same thing.

Spike snorted. "Simple enough, mate. He would have chained ya up and taken a whip to you until you decided to work harder. And seeing as how you signed your name on a contract with a binding spell, you couldn't have done much to stop him. And you'd bloody well better pay your way here, too. If I hear about you not bringing in enough to cover U'talaba's fees, I'll take it out on your hide."

"No you won't," Xander said firmly. "Wesley, ignore Spike. If he gets too pissy, I'll just accidentally on purpose cut off the electricity in the middle of Passions."

"You soddin' little..."

"You two can verbally castrate each other late," Cordelia cut them off. "As the person who has to make the bank happy, someone needs to explain what happened in short sentences that actually make sense."

Angel looked around the room. Wesley had sagged again, so clearly he was not going to be telling the story and Xander was not the person to tell anything without causing more confusion. Spike opened his mouth, and Angel spoke up before Spike could say something that made everything worse. One wrong word and Wesley just might cry and Graham looked about ready to pull a gun and attempt a rescue, not that a rescue would actually help Wesley at this point.

"When we went to see U'talaba, we found Wesley. It turns out that he signed a contract written in Pilixy that signed his freedom over to U'talaba and required that he provide translation services in return for room and board. However, we informed U'talaba that Wolfram and Hart was interested in Wesley." Angel thought he should probably feel guilty about misleading the demon, but he didn't. Besides, it would give Father Peter something for which to lecture him. "With Wolfram and Hart wanting to take Wesley, U'talaba decided that it was dangerous to have such a valuable slave in a place with minimal security, so we made an agreement. We're going to provide room, board, and security, and we'll keep Wesley here and in return we'll keep most of the fees Wesley collects from his translations and send a percentage back to U'talaba."

"So we're renting Wesley?" Faith asked, clearly confused.

"We're keeping him for U'talaba, but the contract allows us to buy him outright after two years."

"He's a slaver?" Graham demanded.

"No," Angel said quickly, before Graham could decide to declare a holy war. "He believed that Wesley had enslaved himself voluntarily, but Wesley thought he had signed an employment contract and that as soon as he got caught up with the work, he would collect his salary."

"Which was clearly foolhardy," Wesley offered. "To fail as a watcher is one thing, but to accidentally enslave oneself is unforgivable. It also provides evidence to justify my father's opinion of me." Wesley pulled his glasses off. "Considering the trouble you have all gone to, I assure you that I will continue to work any translations to pay any costs until U'talaba is paid." He cleaned his glasses with the bottom of his shirt, and Angel found himself feeling an odd sort of sympathy.

Xander gave Angel a pleading look, like he wanted Angel to do something to make this better, but Angel had no idea what he should be doing.

Xander sighed and then looked at Wesley. "With the exception of Spike and Graham who have weirdly supportive families... okay, they both have dead families, but they were Cleaver-family supportive back before they were dead. And with the exception of them, all of us have father issues. I mean, not even therapy and years, and I do mean years, of trying to forget it, can make me get over the fact that my father sold me. He didn't even know Angel, and he sold me to him. And do not mention fathers, taxes, or phone calls in front of Cordelia unless you really want to explore masochism, and even if you do enjoy masochism, unless you want to explore death, the whole issues of Faith fathers will never be mentioned. And Angel...."

"Yes, that is in the watcher's diaries," Wesley stopped Xander from saying any more. "While I do appreciate the attempt at camaraderie, perhaps I should just get some sleep. I assure you, I do not require a large room, so perhaps you have a small guest room available?"

"I'll get the key," Graham said before anyone could argue. He strode behind the desk, his boots hitting the tile sharply enough that Angel suspected he was daring anyone to try and stop him.

"There's the room by mine," Faith offered. "Just as long as you know you are not my watcher," she said, pointing a finger in Wesley's direction.

"I assure you, I have no interest in returning to the watchers, even if Angel didn't own my contract. I really cannot imagine why U'talaba would have placed an advertisement for a slave. It really did seem that in the context I was correct in translating the word as 'employee.'"

"Lots of humans enslave themselves," Spike said with a nonchalant shrug.

Graham was coming back out from behind the counter, key in hand. He stopped and looked at Spike in evident shock. "They do?"

Spike shrugged. "All the time. Some are tired of making decisions and some are tryin' to protect themselves from some nasty that's out to eat 'em, and some are just bloody loons who have some fantasy. "

"And some are just so tired of life they don't care anymore," Faith said quietly. Angel looked at her with concern, and he noticed that Xander and Graham seemed equally as bothered by the words she had nearly whispered. Maybe she felt their eyes on her because she looked around and shrugged and formed an irreverent smile. "It's not all that different from the reasons people get into drugs. It's all about escaping life and the need to make choices when it seems like all the choices you make are wrong."

Graham took a step toward her and stopped, his hand raised like he might offer it to her. For a second, he stood there, and then he slowly lowered his hand. Faith shrugged again and then leaped off the counter. "God it feels good to be strong again. So, let's go find a room for the newest nut in the nuthouse. Oh, and if you see something in the refrigerator that's labeled 'demon only,' stay away," she warned Wesley seriously before heading for the stairs.

"She's not kidding," Graham agreed. "Come on, I'll show you the room." Graham walked over to stand next to Wesley. For a moment, Angel thought Graham might actually have to pull the man to his feet. However, Wesley gave a nod and then pushed himself up like an old man whose arthritis made every movement an agony.

Angel watched them walk up the stairs. Graham's back was still stiff with repressed emotion, so Angel suspected that Graham would later track him down and demand some hard answers. Now that Angel thought about it, he probably should have focused on the vampire dens and the human slaves he knew were tucked into dirty corners all around the city. It just seemed like there was evil everywhere, and Angel couldn't keep up with all the tasks that needed doing and all the people who needed saving. He'd saved Wesley. That should buy him a few redemption points and maybe a small reprieve from Graham and his questions. However, Angel had learned that living life instead of just lurking at the edges meant that the people in your life rarely gave you reprieves.

"So, you bought Wesley," Cordelia said, her voice sharp like a knife the second Graham and Wesley were gone.

"Would you rather I left him there?" Angel asked. "You wanted help around here, and this ensures that Wesley is safe and gets you help with the library."

From the flash of guilt on Cordelia's face, Angel knew there was something there, but he was too tired to pursue it. Tonight, all he wanted from Cordelia was a stalemate; they could finish this fight tomorrow when he could mollify her with plans for a new raid. He knew he wasn't good with money, and Spike was even worse. This time, they would give Cordelia control over whatever funds they captured, and then she could make sure they weren't in financial trouble again because Angel understood unsecured lines of credit even less than he understood morality.

"I'm going to bed," Angel announced before he headed for the stairs. They should tell Lorne they were open for business again. A couple of really good tribute payments would make Cordelia happy and would cover the blimp payment. Angel still didn't understand that. He didn’t think they'd bought a blimp, but Cordelia insisted that they had a payment on one due soon, and according to her, any failure to pay it would result in dire things for the hotel. Angel signed and mentally admitted defeat. He doubted he would ever understand finances, so it was better to let Cordelia rail and rant and torture them all over any perceived inadequacies. At least that meant someone was tending to the business which Angel neither understood nor cared to understand.

Angel had walked through the door to his sitting area before he realized Xander had followed. He tilted his head and looked at Xander, waiting to see what Xander wanted.

"You do know I'm going to lose the fight with Cordelia, right?" Xander asked.

"What fight?"

"The fight over the rooms."

Angel frowned. He didn't like where this was going.

"Okay, Angel, I totally understand that you still want me to take another couple of days to wake up and realize that I don't actually like you. Trust me, though, that isn't going to happen. I used to not like you, and now that I do like you, I'm not going to go back. And by this time tomorrow, Cordelia will have found a way to move Wesley into my room, and you know it. So, I'm admitting defeat and planning a strategic retreat. I'm moving in with you tonight." Xander stopped and looked at Angel, but Angel had no idea what he was supposed to say to that. He wasn't mentally prepared for this... not yet. And yet from the stubborn and nervous look on Xander's face, Angel had just run out of time if he wanted to convince Xander to choose a better mate. Well, damn.


	28. 28

Angel stood watching Xander shift his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt.

"Okay, this is the part where you say something," Xander said with a lopsided smile.

Angel drew a deep breath in through his nose, the scent of musk and the sour fear both pulling at instinctive parts of himself that he didn't trust—not when it came to Xander. "I just—" Angel stopped. What could he say? The truth was that he did want Xander to choose someone better—someone safer. Another part wanted to snatch Xander up and hold him so close that no one else could ever get near. The two emotions pulled on Angel until his head started to throb. He hadn't had a headache in nearly three hundred years, but trust Xander to give him one now.

"The month isn't over," Angel said, but it was a weak argument. Without a doubt, Cordelia would find a way to put Xander out of his room within the next twenty-four hours for no other reason than he suggested she give up her room. And even if she did not, the month would be up in a matter of hours. Angel had just hoped to live in denial a little longer.

"Okay, seriously, that's just lame. Lame and self-esteem damaging. I mean, Spike keeps telling me that you're attracted to me, but between my own lack of experience and your ability to look like you're sucking lemon juice every time I mention the topic of sex, my ego is suspecting my own lack of sex-appeal."

"What?" Angel could feel the shock hit him like cold air. He had never meant to damage Xander, and yet as Xander confessed his insecurity, his expression was nearly as lost as the one Wesley had worn moments ago. "I am attracted to you. You are sexually appealing." Stepping forward, Angel caught Xander by the shoulder and pulled him forward into an embrace. "I want to have sex with you." At that confession, Angel could feel his guilt rise.

"You are really good at faking disgust then. And if this is some Catholic thing, I'm calling Washington and siccing Blair on Father Peter again because he said that he would let you make up your own mind and stop with the priestly guilt trips." Xander leaned into him, and warm arms slipped around his waist.

Angel sighed. "I hurt you."

"What?" Now Xander sounded confused.

"A human would have known that you were feeling insecure."

Xander snorted. Even through the silk of his shirt, Angel could feel the warm breath sliding across his skin. "Okay, now I know you're dreaming. Angel, people are just as clueless as you. My mom pretended we were some suburban family until she had lied to herself about all the dark little psychologically unhealthy corners in the house. People are masters of blindness."

"But I hurt you." Angel stopped. He didn't have the words to explain the fear and the guilt and the desire that raged in him like a hurricane of emotion that left him unable to find his footing.

"By not sleeping with me. If not sleeping with me is hurting me, I have a pretty easy cure for that," Xander leaned back and tilted his head so that he could give Angel a playful smile. The expression made Angel's heart clench painfully. "And that's your lemon-sucking face again." Xander tried to pull away, but Angel held on and closed his eyes as he struggled to clear his expression. Most people said that he was masterful at hiding any emotion, but Xander had grown entirely too good at reading him.

"I'm afraid," Angel confessed. Xander had been futilely pulling back, quietly struggling to escape Angel's embrace, but now he stilled.

"Okay, I missed something because that's not big with the logical-type logic."

Angel sighed again and struggled to put words to the nebulous fears that raged within him. "I'm a vampire." The words were a poor explanation for all the feelings he had inside.

"And I think I noticed."

"I won't ever be... I'm not human."

"And again with the noticing," Xander agreed. He cocked his head to the side and looked at Angel like he couldn't quite understand what was going on. Angel reached up and ran a finger down over Xander's cheek. He hadn't shaved in many hours, and Angel could feel the stubble under the pad of his finger. Xander was grown, but that still didn't give Angel the right to feel what he felt about Xander.

"Crap," Xander sighed. "You never did intend to sleep with me. The deadline was you doing your thing where if you put something out of sight, it doesn't really exist and you have permission to ignore it, wasn't it?"

That made Angel flinch. "Not exactly."

"Just kinda?"

When Angel didn't answer, Xander tried to wiggle away. Angel held on. "Xander, wait."

"I think I've waited too long already." Xander put his hands on Angel's biceps and pushed with all his strength, but after a minute of being unable to loosen Angel's arms, he sagged in defeat. "Angel, please let go," Xander said in a voice too soft and too slow for any sort of normalcy.

"You don't understand," Angel said, desperate for Xander to understand.

"Then explain it."

Tilting his head back, Angel looked at the ceiling. It startled him when warm fingers trailed over his cheek, and he looked down at Xander again. "Please, Angel. I don't understand this. Or I do understand in that I don't have your experience or your muscles or your whole dark avenger thing, but this is feeling like you not wanting me. And hey, I can be okay with that... eventually, but I really just want you to let me go if you don't want me."

Holding Xander with one hand, Angel ran his fingers through Xander's hair and let his palm rest against his cheek. "I am attracted to you. I do want you. I just...." Angel took a deep breath. "I'm not the best choice. If you're with me when Anyanka shows up—"

"I want to be with you. I want to tell her that I've picked you."

"I'm not human. I'll never give you what you could have with a human."

"What? A bitter divorce and legal bills? Venereal diseases? Hey, there are lots of things you can't give me that I'm really okay with not being given."

"And if you do want a divorce?" Angel asked.

"I don't."

"You may."

"I won't."

For a second, Angel glared at Xander. The man was being obdurate on purpose. "If you do, I don't know that I could do that. I'm a demon, Xander."

"And again, I'm huge with the noticing the demoniness. I've noticed for many years now."

Part of Angel wanted to cling to Xander's words and push the guilt and the nagging fears aside and just take his boy into his bed. His cock was hardening, pressing into the unfamiliar warmth radiating from Xander's body. "I wouldn't be able to let you go. If you tried to leave, I would just hold on harder." Angel tightened his arm around Xander to make his point. Unfortunately, Xander didn't look impressed. Angel tightened his grip just a little more, just until Xander hissed in pain, and then he eased his hold again.

Instead of reacting with horror or struggling to be free again, Xander patted Angel's arm. "No offense, but who the hell is good at letting go? Willow just about got someone I consider family killed, and I'm still not doing good with the letting her go plan. I've been clinging to you for three and a half years now, and I don't see me backing off any time soon. I call my mom every week, and that's after she conspired in the whole selling me thing. See me get obsessive? Besides, if things get so bad that we want to split up, there will be screaming and the throwing of random objects, and much willingness to let each other go."

When Xander finished, he stroked his fingers over Angel's cheek, the warmth dancing over Angel's skin. "I don't know how to do this." Angel whispered the words, shame and fear and lust and love all tangling in his heart.

"You know way better than I do. I've got a grand total of two times under my belt, and that first time, I was way too shocked to actually pay much attention."

Angel shook his head. Clearly, Xander didn't understand. Reaching up, Angel captured Xander's hand and held it against his own cheek for a moment before pulling it down. "Spike was so careful with you." Angel hated admitting it, but Spike had made Xander happy.

"He told you?" Xander's voice squeaked.

Angel immediately shook his head. "He's never said anything." Angel realized his mistake as the red started crawling up into Xander's face.

"Oh god. You heard... or you smelled or something. Oh shit. You didn't watch, did you?"

Angel's mouth fell open, but before he could answer, the dull red in Xander's face had turned to a bright scarlet. "You did," Xander accused him. "You watched?" His voice cracked so that the last part of the word vanished into a squeal.

"I only saw the end. I came back early," Angel admitted. "I didn't—" Angel took a deep breath. "You were happy, so I left you alone. Just please listen," Angel asked. Xander's expression was turning mulish, and while Angel would like to postpone this, he did not want to do so at the cost of his relationship with Xander. "I've ignored this because I don't know how to do this. Xander, when I was alive, the only girls I slept with were ones I paid. After I was turned, I had sex, but I never made love." Angel's mind flashed with an image of Spike slowly stroking Xander in bed. While Spike clearly knew how to make love, Angel had never seen that side of him. With him, Spike was feral and dangerous. Drusilla had vacillated between not participating at all and indulging in masochism that would have killed a human and Darla... well, tenderness had never been a trait she sought. Had she wanted a thoughtful lover, she would never have picked him.

"But you and Spike..." Xander frowned with confusion.

Still holding Xander's hand, Angel tugged him over to the couch where they both sat. "If we had love between us, Cordelia would have made Spike choose," Angel pointed out. "We have sex and dominance and blood, we have a biological connection, but we don't have love."

"Darla?" Xander asked.

"A lot of sex and even more dominance, but never love."

Xander cringed. "Okay, kinda creepy because that leaves Drusilla and a bunch of nuns who weren't exactly getting flowers and candy from you."

Angel studied the grain on the coffee table. It wasn't the sort of sexual history that inspired trust. If Xander were to have a suitor and Angel and discovered that sexual history in the suitor's background, he wouldn't have thought twice about killing the person. "I care for you." Angel curled his fingers around his own knees. "I worry that I won't be what you want."

In his peripheral vision, Angel watched Xander reach over and rest his hand against Angel's thigh. "I just want you. And hey, I’m actually pretty okay with us fumbling through this together."

"I might hurt you," Angel warned. He would cut off the hand that caused Xander any pain, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't still hurt him by accident.

"I might hurt you. After all, I was off making assumptions and trust me, my assumptions weren't anywhere near this reality. You having issues was not even on my list of potential reasons why you were acting all weird."

Looking over at Xander, Angel studied him, searching for any sign of doubt or fear, but there was only trust in his expression. "I do have issues," Angel confessed.

"Join the club. We all have issues." Xander shrugged. "So, since we're both a little inexperienced, maybe we could just try some stuff out?" Xander's gaze slipped away, and pink returned to his cheeks.

"Some stuff?" Angel reached over and rested his palm against Xander's cheek for a moment, soaking in the heat and sinking into the scent of desire that drifted through the air.

"Naughty touching is coming to mind." Xander looked back toward Angel. Angel smiled and slid his hand down to Xander's collarbone, tracing the curve of his neck.

"Naughty touching," Angel echoed. His fingers moved down to the first button of Xander's shirt. Slipping the button free of the fabric, Angel used his fingertips to explore the new skin. Xander's gasp suggested he was on the right track. The second button pulled free, and Angel pushed the edge of the shirt back to reveal a pebbled nipple. The scent of desire now stained the air, and Angel breathed deeply. As a vampire, the smell of fear was almost intoxicating, like strong ale that made all a person's troubles fall away so that he could laugh and sing in some dark tavern. But this was the first time Angel had realized that the scent of desire was like a wine. Leaning in, Angel pressed his lips to Xander's neck, feeling the blood and the warmth and the life surging under the skin.

"Naughty touching good," Xander whispered, his voice vague and heavy with lust. Angel stilled as Xander's fingers found the buttons to his silk shirt and freed them so that Xander's warm hands could explore. A shiver ran down Angel's body as Xander brushed the edge of a nipple. However, the couch forced them to sit at an awkward angle. Angel caught Xander's hand and pressed it between his own hand and his chest. Then he stood, pulling Xander up with him.

The black of Xander's eyes had widened with lust, and Angel could smell the musk that came with an erection. While he did not have experience with tenderness, he was clearly doing something well. Angel backed up toward the bedroom, blindly groping to find the doorknob without breaking eye contact with Xander.

Once in the bedroom, Angel stopped and cupped the back of Xander's neck, pulling him close for a kiss. Xander was breathing quickly, his warm like a halo around him that Angel could slip inside. Angel brushed his lips against Xander's, feeling awkward at the unfamiliar gesture. He'd committed lewd acts that would shock the most vulgar libertine, but this was new. Xander sighed, his lips opening and Angel pressed in closer. He caught Xander's lower lip and gently nibbled at it. From the quick gasp, Xander enjoyed that.

Xander's hands pulled at the silk of Angel's shirt, and the last button broke off and made a plinking sound as it hit the wall, but Angel didn't care. Xander's heat enveloped him now, and as Xander pushed the shirt off Angel's shoulders, Angel pressed close so that he could feel Xander's heartbeat through his skin. Angel's hands sought the heat and slipped under the waistband of Xander's jeans.

"Oh god," Xander gasped, and he arched his back. Angel could feel the muscles bunch and strain under Xander's skin. Sweat gathered until Angel's hands slid across the skin like satin slipping across satin. Smiling at his evident success, Angel moved down to taste the skin where the neck and shoulder met. Angel sucked gently, and Xander's hands clutched at Angel's shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Pants. Seriously, gotta get the pants off. Now." Xander's words tumbled out and he scrambled at his own waistband.

Catching Xander's wrists, Angel stopped him. "Shhhh," Angel whispered. Holding Xander's wrists, he backed the man toward the bed. Xander went, his breath coming in little gasps that made Angel want to ravish him and taste every inch of hot skin. When Xander's legs touched the bed, Angel stopped and slowly released Xander's wrists. "Shhh," Angel repeated. He moved his fingers to Xander's waist, and Xander seemed to understand that Angel wanted to do this.

Instead of scrambling to get his jeans off, Xander rested his palms on Angel's shoulders, his fingers pressing deep into Angel's flesh. Angel smiled and slowly unzipped Xander's jeans. His underwear bulged out, the cock pressing forward. Sliding his hand over Xander's hips and then around to cup his butt, Angel ignored the jeans as gravity slowly pulled them to the ground. Only Xander's boxers covered him now, and Angel let his hands explore inside the boxers without removing them.

When Angel's fingers slid across Xander's butt to touch the hidden entrance, Xander gasped and pressed forward. Xander's lips found Angel's collarbone, and Angel hissed with pleasure and Xander marked the skin with his hot mouth. For a second, Angel lost track of his own hands as Xander gently bit down, his hands pulling at Angel's waist to keep him close.

"A mhuirnín dílis," Angel sighed. Xander's hands skimmed over Angel's back, copying Angel's explorations of seconds ago. Slipping his hand under the waistband of Angel's pants, Xander pressed his fingers into the swell of Angel's ass. Angel reached down and pulled the fly open on his pants, and Xander's second hand slipped in beside the first.

"I want to see you laid out for me," Angel whispered. It felt odd, asking a lover for something rather than taking or having something taken from him. Xander smiled at him and stepped out of his jeans. He would have gotten on the bed like that except Angel reached out and caught the waistband of Xander's boxers, holding him in place. "I want to see all of you," Angel added. He used his hold on Xander's boxers to pull him close again. The moment he'd said that, he could see the uncertainty and insecurity in Xander's eyes, and that was an expression Angel did not like to see on his lover.

Distracting Xander with another kiss, Angel pushed Xander's boxers down to his thighs and let gravity take them the rest of the way. Without ending the kiss, Angel pressed forward, using his hands on Xander's hips to guide the man to the bed.

Xander gasped when the back of his knees touched the bed. He broke the kiss and looked at Angel with such longing and love that Angel was struck silent and still as he looked at the beautiful man who had chosen him. Slowly, Xander smiled shyly and the pink rose to his cheeks. "I should have turned the lights off," he said with a half-shrug.

"No, I want to see my mhuirnín." Angel reached up and cupped Xander's cheek, tracing the shape of Xander's lower lip with his thumb.

The pink in Xander's cheeks darkened and his gaze slipped down to Angel's pants. The front was open, but they were still in place and his own underwear hid the erection that pressed forward. "Maybe I could..." Xander licked his lips and fell silent. Angel smiled and reached down to push his own pants off. Unlike Xander, he hadn't gotten rid of his shoes along the way, and now he toed them off and left his pants and underwear and shoes in an untidy pile on the floor.

Xander took in a deep breath and let it out with a uneven little gasps. Angel pressed forward, and this time, his erection pressed into Xander's stomach, nestling in the heat that gathered between them. Angel might not be able to generate his own warmth, but his body could radiate back that which it soaked up from Xander.

"I don't know what you want to do." Xander caught his lower lip between his teeth and looked up at Angel.

"Whatever you'd like, mo ghrá."

For a second, Xander looked up at him. Slowly, Xander brought his hand up to rest against Angel's chest and he ran his fingers across Angel's nipple so slowly and gently that it made shivers travel through Angel's whole body. "What do you want?" Xander finally asked.

Angel blinked at the question. He wanted so much. He wanted things he shouldn't. He wanted to not want things he shouldn't.

"No wrong answers," Xander said, his voice quiet but without a trace of uncertainty or fear. "What do you want?"

Angel looked at the place where Xander's shoulder curved into the neck. The breastbone stood out and the muscles gathered and curved seductively. "To taste you," Angel whispered, caught between desire and horror.

Xander nodded. "Please. Please, Angel." Xander arched his neck so the muscle corded. Angel couldn't prevent his demon from rushing to the front at that offering.

"I... if I do this..."

"Nearly four years, Angel. I know you. I know I want you. I know I want this." Xander pushed forward, his cock pressing against Angel's balls. Reaching up, Xander caught the back of Angel's neck and guided Angel toward the curve of his own neck.

Angel panted, nearly overwhelmed and intoxicated by the need and desire that filled the room. Slowly, he brought his mouth to place he'd earlier marked. Giving Xander time to change his mind, Angel pressed the points of his fangs against the tender skin, barely breaking through. The small drop of blood that rose to meet him was heavy with the taste of lust and a flavor Angel had never before found in blood. Using his hold in Angel's neck, Xander jerked Angel forward and Angel's fangs sunk into the muscle. Xander gasped, but before the pain could register, Angel slowly suckled. One small mouthful at a time, he drew blood up and out of Xander.

Xander's breaths grew ragged and he started squirming in Angel's arms, his sweat slicking both their bodies.

"Oh god. Oh god. Okay, can't come yet." Xander gasped between each word. His erection pressed hotly against Angel. If Xander did not intend to come yet, Angel would just have to test that resolve. Angel pulled his fangs out of Xander's neck carefully. Catching every last drop that seeped from the tiny wounds, Angel wrapped his arms around Xander's waist and easily lifted him. When the twin marks closed, Angel moved Xander to the bed, settling him down into the middle of it.

Xander threw his legs wide and reached for his erection, but for the second time, Angel intercepted his hands and caught his wrists. Squirming deliciously, Xander made a small mewling noise at the back of his throat. Angel had done this. Angel had reduced a lover to need and desire and happiness. Angel's own erection throbbed with need, and Angel guided Xander's captured hand toward it.

Not needing any more encouragement than that, Xander wrapped his fingers around the shaft of Angel's erection and started a tortuously slow rhythm up and down. Xander's cock dripped, and drop of come touched the skin of his lower abdomen and stuck, creating a thin thread that connected cock and stomach. Angel twisted his body around so he could capture that drop without interrupting Xander's delicious torture.

Angel had never touched another man's cock, not unless he intended to torture him. He'd never tasted come. Reaching out his tongue, he captured the head of Xander's cock in his mouth and sucked gently.

Xander screamed and came. Surprised, Angel swallowed, the thick come tasting of musk and blood and salt and perfection. The hot hand on his cock and the delicious taste of his lover in his mouth, Angel thrust forward into Xander's hand and came. If that was what come tasted of, Angel was not surprised Xander enjoyed enné. Xander's body radiated heat and a musk that smelled of happiness and release, and Angel moved up to lay next to his lover.

"I don't always come that quick," Xander finally panted out, his words a clear apology.

"Shhh, mo ghrá. It was perfection," Angel reassured him. He reached up and brushed locks of hair off Xander's sweat-damp brow.

Xander opened his eyes and looked at Angel with a sort of disbelief evident. His boy had become a cynic at some point. Angel reconsidered that. Unlike the girls, Xander never had been one to trust easily or assume the best of others. Maybe he had always been a bit of a cynic.

"I can be more perfect. Give me a little time to recover, and I can be way more perfect."

Angel lay back against his sheets and breathed in the scent of a happy, sated lover. "If you want, we can try for more perfect every day," Angel said slowly, focusing on Xander's expression, "but that was better than anything I've had in my life, and my life has been significantly longer than most." Angel watched Xander, luxuriating in the heat and the knowledge that Angel's needs would not be used against him and that he did not have to use their sex as a weapon against Xander. He'd never experienced sex like that. Xander rolled himself lazily toward Angel, draping his arm over Angel's stomach and resting his cheek on Angel's shoulder. He also ignored the fact that he was now laying in the wet spot Angel had made.

"We definitely have to try for more perfect... maybe a couple of times a day," Xander agreed. He sounded sleepy. Angel used a foot to hook the covers and drag them far enough up that he could reach them without having to dislodge Xander. The light over the reading chair was still on, but Angel was too tired and too happy to bother with it. He pulled the covers over both of them and closed his eyes. He wouldn't mind a couple of times a day. After all, if they wanted to be perfect, humans often said that practice made for perfect.


	29. 29

Xander shifted lazily, half sleeping and wondering what time it was because there was light. Normally light meant oversleeping because his room was on the west side of the building. His brain was not into waking up yet. Nope. He wanted to lay in bed and feel warm and lazy and limp. He shifted and tried to pull his pillow closer, but his pillow was big and solid and definitely wasn't moving.

Blinking, Xander opened his eyes to a very nice view of Angel's back. Xander's arm was draped over the curve of Angel's back, and he had and up close and personal view of the round of Angel's shoulder with the griffin tattoo. Oh yeah. A smile spread over Xander's face as he considered how he had spent the night. Reaching up, Xander traced the edge of the griffin's wing and Angel's shoulder twitched, but Angel didn't wake up. Not wanting to disturb Angel, Xander pulled his hand back and just studied Angel.

His head was turned away so that Xander could see his hair--chunks going every which way so that it pretty much looked like Xander's own morning bedhead. A little part really wanted to reach up and run his fingers through the tangled hair, to smooth it out. Maybe when Angel woke up, he'd do that, but now he just studied the muscular curves and shadows made by the dim light filtering in through the necroglass Xander had paid so dearly for. It had been worth it to see Angel's face when he'd seen the sunrise from the security of his bedroom.

Angel grunted and shifted so that he was now facing Xander. Oh yeah, Angel was not quite as impressively perfect when he was asleep. The seam of the pillow had pressed a deep line across Angel's cheek, and his mouth was slightly open. When Xander had woken up in Spike's arms, Spike had been just as perfect in the morning as he had been the night before. He'd been so perfect, it felt slightly on the side of totally unfair. Clearly, Spike was fond of hair products. Way fond. But Spike never seemed to get the weird head clumps that Angel got... and that Xander had gotten during an ill-advised attempt to use hair gel in sixth grade. Spike was just too cool for his hair to ever clump up. He was too cool to come before he meant to or to mess up in bed or to have insecurities. Xander wasn't. Angel wasn't.

And that's what it came down to. Looking at Angel, Xander realized that he wasn't stressed boy. When he'd first woken up with Spike still in his bed, Xander had felt panic roaring through him. Had he sucked in bed? Had Spike been bored waiting for him to wake up? Was he a disappointment? Was Cordy going to eviscerate him? His first feeling had not been good. And then Spike had smiled and called him "pet" and those fears had evaporated. However, they'd been there. The fears had been lurking, and even now, Xander was totally sure he would not want Spike to go ranking him on any list of lovers. Xander knew he ranked under Angel and Cordelia and Drusilla, and there was a chance he ranked below the minions Angel and Spike sometimes visited when they really needed to go out and be demons. But the way Angel had looked at him... the way Angel had admitted that he'd never had love in bed....

Xander blinked back the emotion that threatened to wash over him. As a man, he did not get all weepy over a lover who wanted him and needed him so very much. That was way too girly, even for him, and he wasn't exactly the manliest man in his community college. He had a bad habit of noticing when people had their feelings hurt or when Lonnie, who was dyslexic, started getting all down on himself. Xander wasn't exactly sure why caring about people was girly, but according to a couple of the guys in his commercial design class, it was. And oddly, that didn't even bother him. When he was in bed with Angel, a lot of things didn't bother him. Maybe he wasn't the lover who could compete with Spike's sexual resume. Maybe he wasn't all manly. But after feeling Angel totally lose control and come from a hand-job, Xander knew he was the lover who Angel wanted.

With an odd little snorting sound, Angel shifted and threw an arm over Xander's stomach, pinning him down. The pressure made Xander realize that he was going to have to go to the bathroom sooner rather than later. Running his hand up and down Angel's arm, Xander watched as Angel's eyes popped open, the yellow of them bright, even in the dim light.

"Xander." Angel said the name softly.

"Hey."

One of Angel's eyebrows went up and small frown lines made the skin between his eyes crinkle--either that or Angel was about to vamp out. Angel reached out, but his fingers hovered less than an inch from Xander's cheek. "How are you?" Angel's eyes faded to brown, and now Xander could recognize the worry.

"Only just about perfect," Xander promised. The frown lines vanished and Angel's fingertips brushed across Xander's cheek. "Mo chuisle," he whispered.

"Either you're calling me a hushla, which is not sounding like a real word, or you're getting all sappy with the Irish again," Xander teased. For a second, Angel froze. Shit. Okay, no poking Angel first thing in the morning.

Xander reached up and caught Angel's hand before Angel could pull away. Turning his head, Xander tried to give Angel a romantic gesture, and ended up kissing Angel's thumb. He wasn't sure how romantic that was, but at least Angel was relaxing. "I need cue cards so I know what you're calling me. Otherwise I don't know how sappy I'm allowed to get with the love names. I mean, are we talking 'hon' or 'pet' level sap or should I be going for the full-blown 'sweety dumpling cheeks'?" The look of horror on Angel's face made Xander laugh out loud. "No dumpling cheeks?" Xander guessed.

"No." Angel's voice made it pretty clear he wasn't joking on that front. "Mo chuisle just means darling."

"I thought mog ra meant darling."

"Mo ghrá."

"Which still doesn't sound like the hushla you called me just now," Xander pointed out.

"Mo chuisle. It's basically the same." Angel tried to pull his hand back, but Xander clung to it and just used Angel's tug as an excuse to land on Angel's chest and sort of settle in. Peeing could wait. This was too nice to give up.

"You are such a bad liar," Xander said as he wiggled his arms around Angel's waist and settled his head onto Angel's shoulder. After a brief hesitation, Angel's arms came up around him, pulling him even closer.

"It does mean darling," Angel said, and that was his mulish tone of voice--the one that said that he knew he was so going to lose this fight, but he was going to put on a good front before going down in flames and glory. Xander just lay in Angel's arms, silently waiting for the inevitable surrender. Until then, he was actually pretty damn comfortable. "Literally it means 'my pulse,'" Angel admitted.

Xander pushed himself up on one elbow and looked down at Angel. "Is that a real Irish love word or just something weird you made up?"

"It's a real love-term." Angel reached out and caught the back of Xander's neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Mo chuisle just sounds less... sappy than calling you my life and the force which keeps me going. And you will not use any terms of endearment that include the word 'cheeks.'" Angel pulled Xander in for one more kiss before letting him go altogether. "Go take care of your morning needs before we make a bigger mess on these sheets," he suggested.

"Um, good point," Xander admitted as he darted out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He had to talk loud over the sound peeing because he was going to be making a really big mess if he waited any longer. "So, since sweetcheeks is out, and can I just say I'm really sorry because Cordelia's face so would have made that worth any humiliation, what can I call you? Calling you 'my angel' sort of loses the whole dear part of endearment when your name really is Angel."

Xander's pee finally trickled off and he shook off a few drops as Angel appeared in the bathroom doorway and leaned against the doorjamb. "You could say m'fhear."

"Which means?"

Angel frowned for a second, and Xander made a mental note to look the word up on his own. Spike always claimed that Angelus had been the master of lies, but Angel had obviously not inherited that skill set. "It means 'man,' but in Gaelic, it suggests a lot of fondness."

"Ma fear." Xander tried rolling the sounds around in his mouth as he washed his hands. Angel came and stood behind him and wrapped his arms around Xander's waist. It was weird to look in the mirror and not see Angel when Angel was pressed up against his back and kissing the curve of his neck.

"M'fhear," Angel whispered, his breath ghosting across Xander's skin.

"M'fear," Xander tried again. He gasped as Angel's hands slid across his stomach, fingers spread wide. Xander grabbed Angel's wrists so that his hands moved with Angel's as Angel explored down to the curve of Xander's hip and the crease where his thigh met his body.

"M'fhear." This time Angel whispered the word right into Xander's ear, and a shiver traveled down Xander's whole body.

"M'fhear," Xander echoed.

"Táim i ngrá leat, mo shíorghrá."

Xander had no idea what that meant, but he was quickly reaching a point where he didn't care. Squirming around, he could feel Angel's erection pressing into his hip for a second. Angel hissed but didn't back away as Xander finally faced Angel. Reaching up, Xander stroked his fingers across Angel's cheek before running his fingers through that messy hair that Xander just couldn't resist. Angel blinked and let go of Xander long enough to try and smooth down the awkward clumps.

"Don't," Xander whispered. "I love it. You look so human in the morning."

Angel froze and looked at Xander for a long second, but then he slowly brought his hands down to rest against Xander's hips.

"Mo shíorghrá, I'm not human," Angel said, and the pain was laid out like a buffet for Xander to see.

"You're human," Xander said, still running his fingers through Angel's thick hair. "You're human and demon. You're Liam and Angel and Angelus. You're Catholic and issuey and the strongest man I've ever known. You're all sorts of things, m'fhear."

Angel's eyes yellowed and he sucked in a breath so fast that Xander thought maybe he'd said the word wrong and cursed Angel out in Gaelic or something. Before Xander could get too worried, Angel caught him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a long kiss. Their erections pressed together in the growing heat between their bodies, and Xander squirmed in need and pleasure as Angel ran his teeth gently over Xander's lower lip before pulling back.

"Bed," Angel gasped.

"Oh yeah," Xander agreed. Except bed meant letting go, and Xander really didn't want to let go. His arms were wrapped around Angel's shoulders, and he didn't even remember doing that. Angel's eyes were still yellow as he wrapped his arms around Xander's waist and solved the dilemma by just lifting him up. Xander caught his heels behind Angel's thighs and held on so that when Angel tried to toss him onto the bed, Angel came crashing down on him.

The weight drove the air out of Xander, and Angel rolled them so they were both on their sides facing each other.

"Xander?" Angel asked, concern turning his eyes brown.

For a second, Xander couldn't get enough air in, and then giggles kept slipping out, stealing what air he could get.

"Are you hurt?" Angel's hands skimmed over his skin, and everywhere they touched, Xander could feel the ghost of the contact tingling through his body long after Angel had moved on to searching for broken bones in another place.

"I'm fine," Xander finally managed to get out between the gasps of laughter. Angel stopped running hands up and down, which was good and bad. Xander had definitely enjoyed getting inspected that way, but he didn't want Angel thinking he was hurt. "I'm just thinking we need to practice... lots. Lots and lots. I say we practice at least three or four times a day."

The smile was slow to appear, but Angel did finally smile. "Until we can be in bed without falling on each other?" he asked.

Xander didn't answer. He reached over and slipped his own hand behind Angel's neck and pulled him close. For a half-second, Angel was an immovable statue, but then he yielded and leaned into Xander's kiss. Xander imitated Angel, kissing Angel deeply and then catching Angel's lower lip between his teeth and teasing it for a second before he pulled back. "Can I try something?" Xander asked.

"Anything, mo chuisle," Angel agreed. Xander gave Angel his best wicked smile, an expression he'd stolen from Spike and practiced in the mirror. From the confused expression on Angel's face, Xander was guessing he needed practice on that, too. Oh well. Somehow all their fumbling still didn't bother him because they loved each other, and Xander believed that with everything in his heart.

Sitting up, Xander urged Angel to shift over to his back. Angel resisted for a second, his fingers teasing Xander with gentle touches that made shivers travel through his whole body. But then Angel slid over to his back. Propped up on one elbow, Xander started with tentative kisses across Angel's chest and then up to the base of his neck. Angel gasped and threw his hands wide. For a half second, Xander thought he had done something unhot, but then he saw Angel fisting the sheets so tightly that Xander was surprised the sheets didn't rip.

With a smile, Xander kissed his way back down until he found Angel's nipple and sucked gently. "Xander!" Angel called out, and Xander sucked a little harder. Angel's hand caught at him, pulling him, and Xander let himself be pulled up toward Angel for another kiss. When Angel's hands found his hip and started guiding him up onto Angel's body, Xander was guessing Angel planned for a little mutual rubbing, but Xander had other plans.

When the kiss ended, Xander squirmed away and planted a single kiss on the nipple he'd neglected before he focused on Angel's stomach. He kissed the skin just below the bellybutton, and he could feel Angel shiver. Angel's cock was turning dark, and the head was odd. Xander always joked about the sock puppet of love, but this was a little more like a sock puppet than Xander had noticed last night. Reaching down, Xander traced the edge of the unfamiliar skin with one finger. The sounds of ripping sheets answered him.

Before he could chicken out, Xander leaned down and traced the same course with his tongue. Salt. Angel definitely tasted salty and a little sour—like the vinegar and salt potato chips Jesse had loved. Angel let out a string of sounds so guttural that Xander wasn't sure if he was grunting or cursing in demon. Hopefully that meant Xander was doing something right. Opening wider, Xander caught the head of Angel's cock in his mouth.

Angel thrust up, and Xander had his entire mouth full before he could react. His gag reflect sent a cold warning through him, and with a shudder, Xander pulled back. Angel's head was thrown back, his neck arched and his fists tangled with shredded sheets. Okay, so Angel had definitely liked that. Xander smiled at the sight of Angel so helpless in his lust, struggling so hard to control himself.

If one thrust got Angel that excited, Xander was about to really screw with him. This time Xander got his fist around the base of Angel's cock and then took about half of it into his mouth. The sour and salt was stronger this time, and Xander sucked before sliding up and running just his tongue along the head.

"M'fhear, I'm—" Angel ended with a sharp cry as Xander sucked again, harder this time. Then come filled Xander's mouth. Unfortunately, Xander sucked just a fraction of a second too long and he got come up his nose, which was about like getting soda up his nose, which was less than enjoyable. Xander pulled back, coughing and spluttering come and making an even bigger mess out of the sheet, but then Angel had pretty much ruined them already.

"Mo chuisle, I'm sorry," Angel said, his hand running over Xander's shoulder as Xander tried to catch his breath.

"Hey, three hundred years and I still made you come when you didn't want to. Go me," Xander said with a smile. He wiped his chin and hoped he didn't look too horrible... or porny. A guy with come splattered over his face was definitely in danger of looking porny.

"So, it was a contest?" Angel asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"We're guys. Everything's a contest," Xander pointed out.

"Then I'll have to take my turn."

"Oh, I'm easy to make come. I think I proved that already," Xander said with a self-depreciating grin. Blair said that all guys were like that in their teens, so Xander was trying hard to not get all insecure about it.

"Then I'll have to choose another challenge," Angel said with a thoughtful look that made Xander worry just a little. "Maybe we can see how long I can keep you on the edge without coming." Angel's smile widened.

"M'fhear, you are about to lose that contest," Xander said with confidence. Just seeing Angel look at him like chocolate was already getting Xander hard again. The whole come up the nose might have killed his erection, but Angel's "Xander looks good enough to eat" look was very lust-worthy.

"We'll see," Angel said. He ran a finger over Xander's cheek, and when he pulled his hand back, he had a drop of come caught on the end. Angel put the finger in his mouth and sucked at it. Xander had no idea why that was hot, but it totally was. His cock was starting to ache in all the best ways. Yep, he was going to be coming so very soon.

Angel put his hand in the middle of Xander's chest and pushed him back. Xander lay sprawled in the middle of the bed and looked up at Angel.

"Whatever you do, I am so coming," Xander pointed out. His cock was bobbing... hell, it was damn near waving. One touch, and Xander brains were going to leak right out the end of it.

"Really?" Angel had on his devious look. Before Xander could even ask, Angel had grabbed Xander's cock. Xander dug his heels into the mattress and thrust up, fully expecting to come. Instead, Angel put pressure on the base of Xander's cock, pushing a spot on the underside particularly hard.

"Shit!" Xander shouted. He gasped for air as his need to come rose and rose, and yet he didn't come.

"You did challenge me, mo ghrá." Angel chuckled, a sensual sound that made Xander squirm even harder. His eyes threatened to water, but god, Xander never wanted this to end. The pleasure and the need to come was going to kill him, but he was going to die a happy, happy boy. Xander grabbed the headboard and strained with all his muscle. He didn't really want to pull away from Angel, but he wanted to strain. He wanted to come, but he didn't want to come, and this was the going to melt his brain. Angel tightened his hold on the base of Xander's cock, and Xander gave a little squeak that represented his entire ability to talk.

"M'fhear," Angel said softly, and then he licked up the underside of Xander's cock, his tongue cooling and burning as it trailed lazily up the shaft.

"Angel...." Xander panted. Fuck this was good. This was so good he was about to die of good.

"Xander?" Angel asked in that same smug, sensual tone.

"Please, Angel. Oh god." Xander stopped as he lost all the air from his lungs. But Angel took mercy and wrapped his lips around the head of Xander's cock just as he let go of the base. Xander screamed and thrust his hips up, coming with such intensity that the world grayed around the edges.

Xander lay panting, his body slowly cooling from the lust fever that had made his brains melt. Angel settled in next to him, propping his chin up with one hand as he rested an elbow on Xander's chest. "I think we both won our challenges," Angel said. He had a milky drop at the corner of his lips, and Xander reached up to wipe it off.

"Go us," he agreed weakly. Yep, definitely brain damaged. "I think I like challenges."

"They are fun," Angel agreed. He brushed a curl back from Xander's sweaty forehead. "And I am starting to understand why you like enné so much."

"Enné?" Xander frowned at that change of topic. "Um, I like peppery, but I'm missing something."

Angel frowned and cocked his head at Xander. "I thought Spike told you what was in enné." Angel suddenly sounded like his old self—slightly bewildered.

"No, Spike gave me a stupid story about it being cooked in come...." The second the last word came out his mouth, Xander's eyes popped open in surprise. "Oh no," he said as it dawned on him that Spike wouldn't lie if he could torture someone with the truth. Angel was looking at Xander with even more confusion than before.

"Shit." Xander closed his eyes and let his head fall back to the mattress. "I am so very gay. And remind me to murder Spike later. I'd murder Cordelia since she actually let me eat it without any warning at all, but Cordy scares me too much."

Angel gave a small huff that might have been laughter as he settled down next to Xander, his leg thrown over Xander's thighs. "I'll remind you in a few hours. I plan to sleep with my m'fhear and recover from that very wonderful sex."

"I can do that," Xander agreed. He'd miss class, but right now, there wasn't anything more important than spending in bed curled around his Angel.


	30. 30

Xander headed down the stairs. Considering that Angel was undead, and therefore didn't actually have bodily functions, he was way more fond of his bathroom than Xander had expected. Out of self-defense, Xander had abandoned the bathroom after shaving, leaving Angel to worry over his hair and sit in the bath and generally do all sorts of things that Xander usually associated with girls. Yep, Xander was not the only one with gender-identity issues. Or maybe he just had gender-conformity issues. Or maybe he'd hung out in therapy way too long.

"Good morning," Xander offered as he reached the lobby. The afternoon sun drifted through the trees out in the courtyard, but the lobby was dim. Clearly Cordelia was still on the saving electricity kick. Xander had offered to install some solar paneling if she wanted to go all environmental, but her face had done that stony-cold thing that made him run for the hills, even when he didn't understand what was making her cranky. Of course, entire demon clans had run from her after ruining sheets, so Xander was not even feeling a little emasculated. Then again, the demon clan had to worry about her sending Spike after them because Spike definitely enjoyed being the official bill collector and enforcer of all Cordelia rules.

"Morning," Graham offered. He was leaning against the front counter, pretending to watch Cordelia on the computer, but he kept glancing over to the weapons cabinet where Faith was just putting some staffs away. She had on a black halter top soaked with sweat, so Xander could understand the glancing. Even if he was gay, he had to admit that sweaty Faith in a halter top was hot.

"Good morning," Xander offered. He looked around at the crew. Spike was leaning back against the wall, one boot propped up on a chair as he watched Cordelia. Either that or he was watching Graham and waiting to rip his intestines out if Graham got too close to Cordelia. Xander was fairly sure that Spike liked Graham, but the jury was still a little out. "So, where's Wesley?" Xander headed toward the kitchen door, but then he quickly detoured when Graham raised a box of donuts. Oh yes, heaven was fried with cherry filling.

"He's still hiding in the library." Faith locked the weapons cabinet and turned around. "Either that boy is getting damp in the pants over Angel's books or he's scared to come out and play with the rest of us."

Xander cringed. That was so not good.

"I think he just needs to get settled in," Graham said. "He was pretty excited by some of those scrolls, and he's expecting some translation work from U'talaba pretty soon. Is Angel coming down soon?" From Graham's tone, Xander was guessing that was not an idle question.

"Um, hair issues," Xander answered with a shrug. Graham looked confused, but Spike started laughing.

"The sod never changes. So, how was your grand deflowering? Not that you needed a deflowering seeing as how I took care of that." Spike wiggled his eyebrows, and Xander could feel the heat gathering in his face. And he wasn't alone. Graham was turning a little pink around the edges too, but then Graham was sort of unforgivably straight.

"Yeah, Xand," Faith said as she walked over and gave him a slap on the back. "How was the big night?" Xander ducked his head, but it was nice that Faith would touch him now. There for a while, she had tiptoed around him like she expected him to start with the blaming and screaming at any time.

"Am I going to get away with saying that I am so not saying anything?" he asked with a sort of hopeless desperation.

Surprisingly, Graham laughed. Xander had thought Graham wasn't really comfortable with the gayness, but now he just shook his head like he was all amused. "These people are worse than soldiers in a barracks, Xander. If you don't throw them some sort of bone, they're going to start making shit up."

"Fucking right," Spike quickly agreed. "Now pet, I know the old sod can't keep up with me, but did you manage to get your end off with Peaches?" Spike's smirk was so wide it was just about to make his face crack.

"Well, yeah, you were really good, not that I'm comparing. Because there is no comparing the two of you. Because comparing would be bad. And you're both good in different ways." Xander knew that he was babbling, but he could not get his mouth to turn off. At least, not until Faith started laughing and Spike's smirk had vanished into a shocked look.

Spike stood up and stared at Xander with horror. "Bloody hell. You prefer him? Bloody fucking hell. It must be love... either that or you've gone 'round the twist."

"That's what you get for asking," Graham said with a laugh of his own.

"Someone's got his little feelings hurt," Faith added, emphasizing the world 'little' just a little too much. Spike glared at her.

"If you people make Angel cranky before I talk to him, someone is dying," Cordelia warned. "Do you see the vein in my forehead doing the cha-cha? This would be your warning to play nice."

Spike still glared at Faith, but at least he didn't take a swing. From the way Faith had settled into a fighting stance, she'd been ready to push until he did exactly that.

"Hey, just pointing out a little truth," Faith offered, her hands held up in surrender as she backed off a step, but she was still emphasizing the word little, which was funny because little was not the first word that came to mind when Xander thought about Spike and sex. And oddly, lots of people who lived at the hotel actually knew that. His life was officially odd.

"Bloody fucking women," Spike muttered before he turned his back and headed toward the kitchen.

"Remind me to find a toilet to clean the next time Spike wants to spar," Graham said with a laugh.

"Coward," Faith accused him in a teasing tone.

"Hell yes. Spike can kick my ass in training. So, if he's in a mood to kick my ass instead of just playing head games, I'm staying out of his way. The army specifically trained me to avoid engaging when I'm destined to end up getting beaten to a pulp."

Faith snorted and rolled her eyes, but Xander was way more interested in Cordy, who had her serious-face on—the one that meant someone died... or was about to die... or had pissed her off enough that they were about to wish they were dead.

"Cordy?" he asked. She looked up, and there was a flash of worry across her face that really seriously freaked him out even more than the death look.

"Oh, don't give me that look," Cordelia snapped, but then her face did that weird squinch-flinch that meant guilt, and Cordy did not do guilt easily. She started typing, focusing all her attention on the computer.

All the humor left Faith. "Come on, Queen C, you should run this by Xand. If anyone can get through Angel's thick skull, Xander can."

"I can what?" Xander looked around the room.

Graham raised his hands in surrender. "I am not getting in the middle of this. Right now, I am saving up any idiosyncratic credit I have with Angel for a conversation about Wesley's status. So, whatever happens, I am officially neutral."

"Okay, what are we taking sides about?" Xander frowned as he considered all the very bad things that might be lurking because it took something really bad to make the vein in Cordelia's temple throb, and whatever idiotic credit was, it wasn't sounding good from the way Graham said it.

"Can I come out yet?" a girl's voice asked. He knew that voice. He shouldn't know that voice. That voice was so very not someone he should hear from again. Xander slowly turned his head until he could see the door to the kitchen and a blonde head sticking out from behind the door. "I'm really sick of being in here," she whined.

"Harmony?" Xander 's voice squeaked. "You're dead."

"Well, duh," Harmony said, and yes, that was definitely Harmony. "I can see you're still riding the short bus."

Xander blinked, but before he could even answer that, Harmony flew backwards and vanished into the hall with a short squeal that got cut off in the middle. There were a few thumps and one really loud crack, and then Spike came walking out the kitchen door.

"You should fix that hole in the drywall in the hall, pet," Spike said to Xander before he walked over to lean on the counter next to Cordelia. Maybe Xander's brain wasn't fully awake before coffee, but he didn't remember there being a hole in the drywall.

Before Xander could say anything, Harmony followed, and her long, blonde hair was a lot more tangled now. "It's not like he takes it as an insult. He was almost cool there at the end, and now that he's gay, that totally comes with some cool points," Harmony said, and that looked like a pout on her face. "If I didn't insult him, he'd think I didn't recognize him or something now that he's actually growing some muscle." Harmony slid along the wall until she hit the far edge of the counter and then she just sort of hovered there.

Xander looked from Harmony to Cordelia and then back to Harmony several times. His brain needed restarting. Maybe the sex with Angel had caused brain damage or something.

"Oh for God's sake, just ask before your head falls off from swiveling," Cordelia finally said. She slammed her hands down on the keyboard hard enough that Xander seriously hoped she didn't break it.

"I'm still trying to figure out what to ask," he admitted.

"Just don't ask about her skill at sucking," Faith suggested with an exaggerated expression of thoughtfulness.

"Hey, that's not nice!" Harmony objected.

"Never claimed to be nice," Faith agreed.

Xander held up his hand to stop any imminent bitch slapping. "And this is me even more confused. Is it just me, or is Harmony remarkably Harmony-y?"

Spike gave Xander an amused look, but despite his poor English, Xander had a point there. He even had a good point. Vampires were supposed to be blood-sucking creatures of darkness unless someone shoved a soul in them and they turned into guilt-ridden, blood-sucking creatures of darkness. But unless Xander missed his guess, Harmony would still be decorating with pink and unicorns, which did not scream 'creature of darkness.'

"She'd better still be as harmless as Harmony or someone is going to pay for having her near my Xander," Angel growled from a spot just behind Xander's ear. Startled, Xander shrieked and just about jumped out of his skin, but Angel slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him so close that Xander had trouble getting a full lungful of air in. When he looked up, Xander could see the ridges and yellow eyes of one seriously pissed off vamp.

"Peaches," Spike offered calmly. That was impressive considering that even Cordelia looked a little shaken up, and Harmony was trying to become one with the wall.

"William," Angel answered. Oh yes, the road to badness was lined with use of original first names. Xander held his breath and waited for the explosion. Instead of snapping back, Spike just leaned against the wall and watched Angel with cool blue eyes.

"She's pretty much what you see."

"Vampires lie, William. Just how sure are you that you haven't put Xander and the others in harm's way?" When Xander opened his mouth to argue that he wasn't exactly helpless against a fledge, Angel tightened his arm enough that Xander decided that Spike was totally on his own in this fight.

"Sure enough," Spike said with a shrug.

"She came looking for me after graduation," Cordelia spoke up. When Angel tightened his arm just a little too much, Xander made a little squeaking sound and Angel eased up again. However, considering how stiffly Angel was standing, that was not the answer that he'd wanted to hear. "She came with me when I moved to L.A. and Spike helped her find a place to stay."

"I could have stayed with you." Harmony's words were little more than a whisper, but he actually found himself feeling bad because Harmony got rejected as a roomie. This was definitely new territory because most fledges did not inspire sympathy. Not even Jesse.

Spike turned and pinned Harmony with a nasty look. "No, you bloody well couldn't have. You needed to prove something."

Harmony looked down and seemed to be studying the 1925 tile work.

"And what did she prove?" Angel asked with an Irish lilt to his voice.

Spike turned and looked at Angel for several seconds before answering. The whole room had gone silent. Even Faith was standing quietly without fidgeting. "She proved she doesn't feel any need ta hunt. She bloody well proved that she doesn't feel any need to dominate humans."

"And you're so confident that you'd put Xander at risk?"

"I'm so bloody confident I'm putting Cordelia in the middle. Besides, if I'm wrong, I'm the second person you're going to skin alive and drown in holy water, so I'm bloody well putting my own life on the line." Spike squared up like he was expecting Angel to hit him for that one. Xander grabbed Angel's arms and held them as tight as he could. Whatever was going on, Xander did not need for the vamps to go off all vampy.

Cordelia looked at Xander with this expression that demanded he do something.

"What?" Xander demanded. He needed cue cards to keep up with this conversation.

"You are such a..." Cordelia sighed. "Tell Angel to play nice."

"If I understood what was going on, I might. I'm still back on why is Harmony so Harmony-y." Xander looked around, but only Graham answered him.

"I have no idea, but I'm keeping a stake under my pillow." Graham then frowned and turned toward Harmony. "No offense."

Harmony shrugged like she didn't care, but that was not a happy face. That was a face like someone had just drawn mustaches on all her flyers for the Junior High Harvest Queen back when she and Cordelia had still been working on their pecking order, and as the mustache-drawer in question, Xander knew the guilt that look inspired.

"Vampires aren't like other demons, pet," Spike offered. "We don't possess a human. We come into the body, and we pretty much take over where the human left off, only we don't give a shite if we hurt people because it's all about doing what feels good."

"Yep, I'm pretty much getting that already." Xander had learned that lesson when Buffy's date of the day had slipped Angel some drugged Jello. Angelus was pretty much exactly like Liam with his father issues and insecurities and a really bad habit of trying to overcompensate for both. But with the strength of a vampire, Angelus had been way more dangerous.

"Sometimes there just aren't any dark corners," Spike shrugged and then moved to stand next to Cordelia, catching her hand in his, and that was the first time Xander noticed she was busily shredding little pieces of paper. "Some people really are what they seem to be."

Xander frowned. He knew full well that he had a whole lot of anger at his parents. Yeah, his mom was trying hard to be the supporto-mom, and had even been all pep-talk and offers of cookies when he'd told her he was gay. He still had anger issues. And he was not going to look too closely at the box marked "Faith" because he did still have a few issues with what she had done. Yeah, he forgave her because she'd been hurting and when she'd tried to reach out for Spike's reassurance, Spike had missed the signs that she was hurting under all the bravado. However, if someone turned off his conscience, Xander suspected his vampire him would have a few words with her. Actually, his vampire him would have a few words with a whole lot of people. Most of his high school teachers would be in serious shit. They'd all let him think he was an idiot, but his community college scores did not exactly support that conclusion.

"Wait," Xander said as he finally put the pieces together. "Do you mean that Harmony with the demon is pretty much Harmony without the demon because we always saw the real Harmony?"

"Exactly, pet," Spike agreed.

"I'm not sure what to even say about that," Xander said softly. Harmony was still scrunched back against the wall looking a whole lot like Harmony, so a little part of him was ready to buy the story.

"I'm tempted to say that's almost sad," Faith said softly. The fact that Harmony didn't even stick up for herself was the part that Xander was feeling was more than a little sad. Harmony was always a pleaser, and there were not many people she could please in this room. Not even Cordelia was really sticking up for her.

"Is that why some vampires don't seem to turn evil?" Graham asked, suddenly all interested.

Angel answered. "It's not easy to resist temptation, no matter who you were before the demon took over." Angel and Spike exchanged a long look that suggested there was way more going on than Xander understood.

"Convince me that she isn't a danger." Angel sounded cranky, but he had loosened his arm around Xander's waist, and that was almost a reasonable expression on his face.

"I set her up at one of the suckhouses." Spike leaned against the counter. "It didn't work out, but she's soddin well proved that she's not out to eat or enslave the human race."

"Didn't work out? Why?" Angel's reasonable expression completely vanished.

"Ask her." Spike poked his thumb over his shoulder.

When Harmony's head came up, she had on a total deer-in-the-headlights expression. "What?" She sounded so much like Harmony had every time a teacher called on her for an answer that Xander found himself starting to believe this was Harmony. Angel just looked at her until she started fidgeting under his glare. "It wasn't my fault. Just because I told people they were losers for wanting someone to bite them, they got all weird. It's true, you know. I mean, I have to eat. But the losers who came in looking for someone to bite them were all... icky."

Okay, that was definitely Harmony. Xander was feeling way more comfortable having her around because any vampire who thought suckhouse humans were icky instead of delicious bags of walking goodness clearly had some humanity sticking to them.

Angel finally let go of Xander and stepped up to the counter so he could glare down at Cordy. "Why bring her here?"

Cordelia looked up and shrugged. "You mean other than the fact she got kicked out of her second suckhouse?"

"Still not my fault losers don't like to hear they're losers." Harmony said it softly, but from the tone, she was not backing down on that one. Yep, she was definitely still the same old Harm.

"Yes, other than that," Angel said to Cordelia. He still hadn't said one word to Harmony.

Cordelia looked at Harmony and then at Spike before she looked back toward Angel. "We need someone to help run the hotel."

"Don't you—"

Cordelia cut him off. "I am constantly trying to track down demons who owe us money or researching some weird ritual for collecting debts or trying to find the freshest enné in L.A. I'm busy doing all the things well-connected demons expect. And the others are too busy to be constantly washing sheets. Xander is going to school part-time and fixing this place full-time. Graham and Faith are constantly training and every night they're trying to help that rude little black man and his sister clear out the Badlands and now Wesley is going to be chained to his desk. We need someone to help with the work, and we don't have the money to pay a salary. Trust me, if we had money in the accounts, I would have been hiring illegal immigrants a long time ago. But we have stunning rooms, and with the cost of downtown real estate, we need to get this hotel actually running at capacity. So we need Harmony." Cordy put on her own version of Willow's resolve face. Xander had no idea that she had it down so well, in fact.

"We... oh," Angel said, and he was back to looking bewildered. "We can't hire someone?"

"With our bank account? No. In fact, we need to have a steady source of income, so I'm going to tell Lorne that we're opening up for residential guests."

"Meaning?" Xander asked.

"Demons are going to live here," Cordelia said firmly. "We have beautiful rooms, a great location, and now we have at least one staff, so it's time to bring in some money before the back takes the hotel back."

"Before the bank does what?" Xander pushed Angel to the side so he could move up to the counter and look at Cordelia. "What do you mean before the bank takes the hotel back?" Xander was suddenly noticing a whole lot of glares and embarrassed looks between Spike, Cordelia, and Angel.

"Looks like someone's been keeping a secret," Faith commented. "So, how bad are we hurting?"

"We aren't," Angel said firmly.

Cordelia didn't answer at all, and that really said something.

"Fuck," Faith said softly.

"Gunn is really shaping up as a leader. I could take a couple of nights off each week and work around the hotel," Graham offered.

Xander chewed his lower lip. "Maybe I should take a semester off."

"You will not!" Angel said with a whole lot of Irish in his voice. He turned yellowed eyes toward Xander.

"That wouldn't be enough, anyway," Cordelia interrupted. "A hotel like this would take dozens of full-time staff."

"Dozens?" Angel sounded like he was out of breath, which was odd for someone who didn't breathe.

"Although vampires don't need breaks, so maybe not dozens," Cordelia admitted.

For a second, Angel only glared. "Cordelia will be lettin' out the rooms while Spike and I do a little clean up job we've been plannin'. Xander will not quit school." Angel turned his furious glare toward Graham. "And yer not going to stop working with Gunn." Angel stopped and ran a hand across his face.

"You," he said as he turned to Harmony for the first time. "You will keep your fangs clear of any humans. If I smell fresh blood on you, someone will be sweeping you off the floor. And you are not allowed near the family wing without an escort, understand?"

Harmony didn't answer, but she nodded with this wide-eyed look that was either fear or puppy-love. Maybe both.

"She can stay—" Cordelia started.

"Down here," Angel said firmly. The look he gave her promised a whole lot of pain if she wanted to argue with that. Xander held his breath as the two had their stare down.

Cordelia sighed and looked away. "I'll help you pick a room, Harm. Xander's drywall work in the hall can wait—he'll get to work on fixing up your room just as soon as you pick one." Cordelia looked over toward Xander, but he was not Angel. He wasn't even going to pretend that he had a chance of out-queening her.

"Just give me a budget," Xander offered with a smile. Guilt chewed at the edges of his thoughts. He'd never even bothered with budgeting even though it was a huge part of the classes. When he looked though supply magazines, he had a bad habit of not even considering the price. He wondered just how much of their money problems were his fault. He cringed as he considered how much he had spent on Angel's bathtub. And Spike's room had a stereo system that most disco clubs would envy. Okay, he definitely needed to start budgeting instead of just buying two of everything that caught his eye. Hell, he had enough supplies in the sub-basement that he could probably just make do with the supplies he had, at least for a while.

Even though Xander hadn't said anything all that special, Cordelia gave him one of her best smiles, one that made him understand why he'd fallen for her in the first place.

"So I get my own room?" Harmony asked with a small, hopeful voice. "Oh! Can I paint it pink?" She suddenly looked excited. Xander might have answered, but Angel caught him by the hand and started pulling him back toward the stairs.

"Hey, can I have sex with him?" Harmony asked brightly. Xander didn't even get a chance to ask which 'him' Harmony wanted because Angel was practically dragging him back up the stairs. Oh yeah, his life was so very, very weird.


	31. 31

Angel pulled Xander to the couch and handed over the remote control. Any time Angel not only volunteered to watch television but also volunteered to let Xander pick the show, Xander knew he was totally freaking out. Then again, Harmony as a vamp was slightly freak-worthy. Considering the number of times Xander had freaked and forced Angel to do the male-bonding thing, turn about was pretty fairplayish.

"I can dust her," Angel blurted out in the middle of Xander flipping between wrestling and some cooking show.

"You... what? Why?"

Angel looked at Xander with a frown. "You're upset. If we need help, we can hire someone. Spike and I planned to deal with Magnus Hainsley, a necromancer that U'talaba told us about. He's digging up the bodies of the wealthy and then using them to manipulate their families, and digging up attractive people to sell to demons to help them manifest in this dimension."

Xander shivered in horror. "Can I just say 'ew' here? Although, I suppose doing creepy things with a dead person is less creepy than doing that to a live one." Xander seriously needed to stop watching the news because the freaky, creepy things humans did was just as bad as anything demons could cook up. "So, rich bad guy?" Xander asked. "And you're going after him for the money?"

Angel's frown deepened. Yep, scratch the surface and Angel's guilt showed up right on time.

"Which is fair if the bad guy is bad enough that you would go after him even without the money," Xander hurried to add. "But I'm still not seeing what that has to do with killing Harmony. Or rekilling her. I actually got her killed already." Xander stopped. He really wished he could ignore that little truth, but he couldn't. Harmony had followed him into battle against the mayor, so if she was walking around undead, he had his own guilt to deal with. Angel reached out and caught Xander's hand.

"She chose to fight. That wasn't your fault."

"Hey, if you get to keep all your irrational guilt, so do I," Xander said. But he squeezed Angel's hand back. His head—and Riley and Graham and Buffy and Angel—had all told him that it wasn't his fault, but that didn't really help his heart. He had no idea how guys like Riley and Graham did it because he would never go into the military where he had to face life and death stuff every day... not that Buffy had ever been giving a choice. Buffy or Faith. And truthfully, Harmony hadn't really had a choice either because she'd always been a follower—someone who tried to impress people and get praise and if showing school spirit meant picking up a stake and fighting monsters, she'd do it without even thinking about the whole possibly dying part. She'd be crushed by getting left out, which in her mind was probably way worse than being dead.

"But seriously, Angel, I'm not really big on staking Harmony—not unless you think she's some sort of super secret agent uber-vamp planning to kill us all in our sleep."

The look Angel gave him made it pretty clear he didn't buy that, which meant that Xander's whole theory of vamps was pretty much blown because he'd never really thought of a vampire turning out pretty much harmless. Angel pulled Xander closer and slipped an arm around his shoulders. "I've seen it before—vampires who just didn't have any dark tendencies before they were turned. It's rare, but it happens." A quick twist of Angel's mouth also suggested that he was remembering someone other than Harmony. "But that doesn't mean she's harmless. She will try to eat you if she's hungry."

"She may try to eat random guy off the street, but not even Harmony is dumb enough to try and eat me," Xander pointed out.

"So you aren't worried about having her around? Scared?" Angel asked with such earnestness that Xander was almost offended.

"Hey, I’m not exactly chopped liver." Xander jabbed Angel with an elbow. "I can take out a fledge. What is up with you assuming I'm freaking over having a fledge in the house? I mean, yeah, I'm freaking over Harmony being here, but I'm not freaking about fledges in general."

"You smell distressed."

"And again with the vampy weirdness. Have I not pointed out that the sniffing is oddly inappropriate?"

"A few hundred times," Angel admitted. However, he wasn't promising to avoid any future sniffing.

"Yeah, well your sniffer may sniff good, but your logic circuits are all wonky. I am not afraid of Harmony. I'm distressed over this stuff with Cordelia and money and thinking maybe I've been spending way too much of it."

"You've done a wonderful job with the hotel."

"I've done a spectacular job," Xander corrected him, "but that is not to say that I've been careful with the money. But then, I didn't know we should be careful with the money—which was slightly stupid of me, but then...." Xander shrugged. He wasn't known for being good at picking things up on his own, not unless it included power tools and wood. "So I'm oddly okay with having Harmony around, but I'm not at all happy about being unlooplike on the money front. Did you plan to tell me we were in trouble?"

"Cordelia just worries."

"Well, duh. Geez, Angel. Her dad totally ruined her life by losing all their money. I think she's going to have issues over you losing all our money... or me spending all our money because I'm starting to think that I might have helped on the whole losing of the money front."

"It's not your fault," Angel hurried to reassure him.

"No, it's yours," Xander said. Angel sat up, clearly surprised at that. Then again, Xander was usually more for reassuring Angel, but this time, Angel had really stuck his foot in a big pile of steaming stupid. "You should have told me. I was spending money like we had huge piles of treasure, mostly because I thought we had big piles of treasure. And Cordelia should not have to worry about things like mortgages by herself. Not when money stresses her out so much. Angel, if Spike hadn't been paying for her apartment, what do you think she would have been using for money?"

Angel opened his mouth, but then closed it again without answering.

"Exactly. And Cordelia without money would not have been good. I mean, some of us have been raised from birth on poverty. I know how to shop at Goodwill and work crap jobs. Cordelia—not so much. Money is going to make her cranky. Or, more to the point, the lack of money is going to make her cranky. It will make her cranky and unCordeliaish, and as much as I sometimes wish she would pull her claws back a little bit, I don't actually want her to change."

"Not having money would change her?" Angel frowned. Clearly they had entered new territory. Then again, Liam had died before he had to worry about bills and mortgages--assuming they had mortgages in the 1700's.

"In ways I don't want to think about," Xander agreed. "I have no idea whether she'd turn all shrewish and criminal or if she'd be all insecure, but she'd be unCordeliaish. And if she's afraid the rest of us are going to put her in the poorhouse, bad things are going to happen."

Angel slowly nodded, like he was still trying to process that one. "Should I worry about money more?"

"Definitely. I think we all need to be worrying about money more. So, if we're taking in permanent residents, I'm just as happy to have someone around to wash the sheets. I'm just worried that all our sheets are going to be pink or get shrunk or shredded or something. I'm not really thinking of Harmony as the best choice of maids."

"She'll do what she's told unless she wants Spike to deal with her," Angel said firmly. And that was where Xander just didn't want to go. Yeah, Harmony was officially all vamp now, which put her under vamp rules, and vamp rules included blood and beatings--even when the vamps liked each other--but Xander was not going to let his brain go there. Nope. He was pretending than any hole in the hallway drywall came from a spontaneous attack of air pressure, not Spike putting Harmony's head through it.

Angel tilted his head in confusion, but before he could say anything, someone knocked on the door. Without waiting for an answer, the door cracked open a little.

"Is anyone available?" Graham called out without looking in. Xander felt his face heat up as he realized that Graham had assumed they'd come up for some sex.

"Really, we shouldn't bother them," Wesley protested softly.

"Come in," Angel said after giving an annoyed sigh. Xander figured they were all pretty lucky that Angel wasn't Angelus because the family could be a little annoying, and annoying Angelus was never wise. Xander tried to put a little distance between himself and Angel, just enough to stop the sex rumors, but Angel tightened his hold, tugging Xander closer until they were pretty much plastered up against one another. Giving up, Xander just leaned into Angel and let the big dork make his possessive claim.

"I don't want to disturb you," Graham started as he came around the door.

"Truly, that would not be my goal on my first day of employment." Wesley agreed, but he trailed in behind Graham clutching a newspaper. "I'm sure this can wait."

"I'm more sure it can't." Graham reached out for the paper, and Wesley reluctantly surrendered it.

"Just to make it clear, I am in no way making any sort of accusation. I am simply noting a pattern of interest," Wesley added as Graham opened the paper and held it out. Angel finally let go of Xander in order to reach out for it.

"You want us to see the sale at Bloomingdale's? I'm not THAT gay," Xander protested as he read over Angel's shoulder. He was gay, yeah, but he had his manly limits.

"The murder," Graham said, pointing to a picture near the bottom of the page. A woman's smiling picture didn't match the story, which described a woman who'd been murdered and a cross carved into her cheek by a serial killer the police were calling "The Pope."

"Vaguely insulting to Catholic people," Xander said. "And cryptically disturbing in a creepy serial kind of way." He looked over at Angel, but for a dead guy, Angel had done a good job of losing what little color he normally had in his face.

Wesley scrunched his face up oddly. "I never would have mentioned it, except that I kept dossiers on all those whom the counsel deemed a threat to the slayers."

"Which included me," Angel said flatly. Clearly, Xander was missing something. He looked at Angel for some sort of explanation, but Angel was just staring at the newspaper with his best guilt-ridden face going.

"You know I'll follow your lead here, but do you have any idea what we're looking at?" Graham asked.

"Hey, I have an idea. It's called explaining to the Xander what's going on." Xander poked Angel in the side, and Angel started like he hadn't realized Xander was still sitting there or something.

"It's what I used to do," Angel said quietly. "I've been dreaming. I thought the demon was just...." Angel stopped.

"Dreaming as in?" Xander prompted him.

"I dreamed I did this. I dreamed that I was feeding on her blood, that I was feeding on her fear." Angel pushed the paper toward Xander.

"Oh dear." Wesley started backing toward the door, but Graham just looked confused.

"But weren't you here with Xander?"

"That's a hell yes on the air-tight alibi," Xander agreed. "Angel, I know you like to feel guilty for things that you have no control over like the ozone and Cordelia, but you did not kill this woman."

"Yes, I did."

"Unless you can split yourself in—"

"I made the vampire who did this," Angel said, cutting Xander off mid-reassuring comment.

"Whoa? Drusilla is in town? Considering that she hates me, I think I'll be carrying extra holy water."

But Angel was already shaking his head. "Not Drusilla. Penn." Angel got up and was moving toward the door so fast that Graham nearly stumbled getting out of his way and Wesley fell back against the wall with a distressed little noise.

"Angel?" Xander called, but Angel didn't even stop. "Damn it," Xander cursed softly before he ran after him.

Angel was already going through the weapons cabinet when Xander got to the main floor. Cordelia and Harmony were watching with a sort of worried confusion, but Faith was just sprawled on the couch with her knife and a demon-killing expression.

"We have a job, boss-man?" Faith asked. Angel stopped, a sword in hand.

"Who's Penn?" Xander asked.

"Why the fuck are you asking after that wanker?" Spike demanded, and that was not a happy look.

It was Graham who answered. "I'm not sure, but I think Angel suspects Penn is in town."

"Bloody fucking hell. If you bring that hairy-arsed nancy-boy back here, I'm not playing second fiddle. He can bloody well take his place under me." Spike took a step forward, his body tense like he was ready to jump Penn right now.

"We're bringing him back here?" Xander wasn't sure how he felt about that because, in general, he disapproved of serial killing. And yet he had slept with two of the most famous serial killers in vamp history, which said something about his moral flexibility.

"I don't know." Angel shoved his sword into its sheath and started for the door.

"Whoa, hey, wait up," Xander said, hurrying after him. If Angel was off making the big moral choices, no way was Xander letting him go on his own. Angel's moral compass was a little rusty, and when he went listening to his own brain, stupid shit tended to fall out.

Angel stopped at the door. "You are not coming with me."

"Try and stop me."

Angel clenched his jaw, and Xander had the feeling that the vampy parts of Angel were all ready to chain Xander to the nearest surface.

"Okay, so you can totally stop me," Xander admitted. When faced with vampy insecurities, confrontation was not exactly the smart approach. He'd figured that out after Spike had sat on him about a million times. "And I know you could stop me with without lifting more than one finger, but we're supposed to be equals and you said all that stuff about being m'fhear—about us really being fond of each other, but if you make me stay behind, that's more about pushing me around and making me feel unwanted. So, before you get your vampy strength going, you need to figure out if this is a fight worth winning."

For a second, Xander thought he'd lost and Angel was about to ask Spike to hold him back or something. But then Angel's shoulders slumped.

"Faith, watch his back," Angel said.

"Hold on, Peaches," Spike interrupted. "Soldier boy's about as good as Faith, so take him."

Xander looked around, confused, but most everyone else looked about as confused as he was, including Faith and Angel.

"I can cover him," Graham said. "We should probably leave some fighters here anyway. If he's been in town long enough to kill three people, then he's heard about you and he probably knows where to find you."

"See, boy's got a point," Spike said. He walked over and stood next to Faith.

"I'm five-by-five either way, boss-man," Faith offered.

"Can I go? Maybe Penn will pair up with me," Harmony said with a whole lot more cheerfulness than Xander normally associated with a vampire.

"Graham, watch his back or...." Angel didn't finish that. He just turned around and stormed out of the hotel.

"And fun times were had by all," Xander said sarcastically. Graham gave him a half-nod before they both went after Angel. Given a chance, the big goober would probably take off in the car and leave them behind.

Angel was already behind the wheel, gripping it so tightly that Xander feared for the plastic. "So, where are we going because driving around the city doesn't seem like the brightest of plans." Xander went to get in the backseat, but Graham caught him by the arm, stopping him and getting in the backseat himself.

"I can feel where he is," Angel said, his voice sharp.

"Well that's a weird and oddly useful skill you've picked up. Back in Sunnydale when Spike first showed up, you didn't have tracking radar for Drusilla, and she was yours, right?" Xander grabbed at the dashboard as Angel took a corner so fast that Xander's life flashed in front of his face.

"I wasn't feeding well, I wasn't training. I had denied so much of my demon that I couldn't feel my own childer." Angel was still sounding on the way side of cranky.

"Can all vampires do that?" Graham asked. For a second, Angel didn't answer, and Xander exchanged a worried look with Graham. Angel was famous for freaking out, but this was a little much, even for him.

"Master vampires can," Angel finally answered. "But only with the ones they invested time in and exchanged blood multiple times."

"So Penn was a favorite?" Xander grimaced. Okay, any vamp who had been a favorite of Angelus had issues on his issues, so this was sounding unsmartlike. In fact, he was thinking that they should steer clear of Penn rather than give him an invite to Sunday dinner. If Penn was anything like Angelus had been, the humans would end up dinner. Xander wasn't worried for himself, but he glanced back toward Graham. The man had been training and could officially kick Xander's ass at this point, but no human had good odds going up against a century old vamp.

Angel didn't answer, but he mashed his foot down on the accelerator. If they didn't all die in a fiery crash, Xander was going to have to torture some information out of Angel, but right now, a change of topic seemed in order.

"Graham, any idea what the weirdness is with Spike and Faith?"

Surprisingly, it was Angel who answered. "Spike tells her how I humiliated and tortured him and how he still wanted my approval."

Xander could only blink in shock. "What? Why?"

"I overheard them. Spike wasn't saying anything that wasn't true. I did torture him. I didn't like that Drusilla chose to turn him, but once he was turned, I loved torturing him because he was the sort of man my father would have wanted as a son—obedient, respectful... smart." Angel took another corner at death-defying speeds. This time, even Graham grabbed for a handhold before he could get thrown around.

"Actually, I think they were talking about Faith's father," Graham said. "She's trying to let go of her anger and guilt and really deal with the issue. She spents a lot of time on the phone with Blair, but Spike..."

"Can relate to being tortured," Angel finished.

"He can relate to loving someone even though they hurt you," Graham corrected him. "I can't really understand what Faith went through, and Blair can listen, but he can't relate any more than I can. Spike has turned out to be a good friend."

"And I am really hoping you mean a non-orgasm friend because a Cordelia-Faith smackdown would probably take out the entire hotel and half a city block." More than that, Xander just hated the idea of the two women fighting. "I mean, Spike and Angel are sort of a separate issue what with the..."

"Sire bond," Angel offered.

"Which is unlike a relationship bond, but if Spike and Faith were having relationship bonding of the orgasmic nature, that would be world-ending bad."

"No, no orgasms," Graham agreed. "I actually think that's why Spike wanted to talk to her without me around."

"To have orgasms? Because we're back to bad."

"No, to talk about orgasms," Graham corrected him. "Faith backhanded Harmony hard enough to put her over a desk just because she asked if she could sleep with me. As a vamp, Harmony could smell that I haven't been with anyone for quite a while, and from her perspective, it was a logical question."

Angel interrupted, his voice colored with Irish. "No, it wasn't. She'll learn to respect that humans make their own choices in our clan or I'll teach her that lesson myself." Yep, Angel had on the cranky pants tonight.

"Fair enough," Graham agreed. He'd learned even faster than Xander that it really didn't work to try and argue with vampires. They just sat on you when they didn't get their way. "I suspect that Spike is going to tell Faith that if she feels strong enough to defend me from Harmony, she should just claim me herself. This is really an odd reversal of the gender roles, and I'm just glad that I have a healthy ego and lots of opportunities to kill monsters or I really would be developing a complex over this." Graham gave Xander a crooked smile and a shrug.

"If you want, you can borrow my power tools if you ever need to feel more manly," Xander offered.

"Thanks. Right now, I'm wondering how you two would feel if Faith and I did want to start a physical relationship."

"Hey, I assumed you already had one, so count me in the 'totally okay with it' column," Xander offered.

"Hurt her and I'll drain ye and leave yer body for scavengers."

Xander stared at Angel in horror. Okay, that was not even sounding like his joking voice. That sounded downright homicidally creepy. Normally that voice only came out when someone mentioned Jenny Giles.

"Understood," Graham answered calmly. "I suspect you'd have to fight Spike and Cordelia for any bloody remains you wanted to dispose of, though."

"I probably would," Angel agreed as he pulled into the parking lot of an old-fashioned hotel. "He's here."

Xander looked up and wondered what exactly they were doing. "And is this good?" he asked.

Angel stared straight forward. "He's clan," Angel said slowly. Xander cringed at that tone of voice because he completely understood. Xander's father was family, and Xander would never do anything to hurt him, even though the man was a total waste of human flesh. Maybe he had more in common with Faith than he thought—not that his father's negligence was anywhere near the level of her father's totally deservingness of death.

"Are we gathering intel or do we have an objective?" Graham asked from the back.

For a second, Angel continued to sit and stare at the hotel. "We gather intel," Angel finally said before getting out. Xander hurried to follow, Graham at his side. Angel had his dark avenger look on as he strode up the front, his coat billowing around him. Not even stopping at the desk, Angel went right to the stairs.

"Sir, sir!" the front desk staff called after them.

"We have our room number, thank you," Graham called over his shoulder before both Xander and Graham had to break into a trot to keep up. The finally reached the fifth floor, and Xander could feel his side cramp up. He definitely needed to train more. Construction was helping him with strength, but if he had to run for his life, he was woefully out of shape. Angel, of course, didn't have a hair out of place as he stood in front of a hotel room. He didn't knock. He simply stood outside the door staring at it. Right about the time Xander was going to open his mouth to ask what Angel was doing, the door flew open and a young man was standing there.

"Angelus! My God! It's been a lifetime!" Joy lit the man's face as he leaned in to slap Angel on his arms in an odd sort of greeting.

"It seems even longer than that," Angel agreed.

"We were supposed to meet in Italy, remember?" So this was Penn. He was attractive in an Oz sort of way with the spiky hair and the laid-back vibe. After seeing Drusilla and Spike, this was not what Xander had expected from another of Angel's childer.

"I remember."

"Well, I waited. Hell, I waited until the 19th century. I never heard a word about you until I heard you set up a formal court in L.A. I never thought that would be your style, old man. So, are these your own personal Renfields?" Penn looked over and gave Xander and Graham such an unapologetically sexual exam with his eyes that Xander was shocked into silence. Graham stepped forward and pulled a stake out of his pocket.

"Wow, you let them—" Penn didn't get any farther. Angel grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him back into the room. Graham hurried after them, and Xander was one step behind him. Inside, he found Angel pinning Penn up against the wall.

"You dunna talk to them without permission, boy. Understand?"

Penn brought a leg up and slammed it into Angel's groin. Xander ached in sympathy, but Angel just stretched his neck first one way and then the other like a runner stretching before a race. "Seems like William kicks harder than you do these days." Angel leaned in and sniffed Penn's neck, trapping him until Xander could see Penn sag in Angel's grasp. Clearly Penn was so out of his league with Angel.

"Yeah, I understand," Penn finally agreed. Angel smiled and slowly backed away.

"So, you've come to my town, which presents me with a problem," Angel said.

"Look, I know I should have come and paid respects to you first, but give me a little time, and I'll bring you a proper tribute in nuns. I know how you always liked them." Penn tilted his head as if he was sharing a secret with Angel, and Xander was starting to officially not like this guy.

Angel backed away until he stood right in front of Xander and Graham. "So, Xander, Graham, this is Penn. I created him in 1786."

"You turned me in 1786, you created me over the years that followed. You taught me everything I needed to know," Penn said, his head ducked low in submission. "I should have come to you, but I didn't want to come to you with nothing. I wanted to show you that I have become the great vampire you always said you could see in me." Penn moved over to the wall of his hotel room where dozens of newspaper clipping covered the wall. "The whole city fears me," he said, ghosting his hand over the wall and the articles all neatly pinned in place. Xander could see a few headlines, and they were not the sort of articles that Xander would brag about. Then again, Xander wasn't a soulless serial killer. Penn was.

"So, Xander, what do you think of the oldest of my childer?" Angel asked.

"He's... um... well—" Xander stopped, and Penn turned to snarl at him, yellow eyes glowing in the dim light.

"He is the only reason I haven't staked you, Penn," Angel warned.

"Me?" Xander looked at Angel in confusion because there's no way Xander said anything to side with the serial killer who thought grabbing up a bunch of nuns would be a nice 'I just came to town' gift.

Angel tilted his head. "You always give clan a second chance when you allow others to die."

"What?" Xander could hear his voice squeak, and Graham was looking at him with these big worry-eyes, like his psychology brain was going overtime and planning impromptu therapy sessions, which Xander totally did not need. He knew when he needed therapy, and he was not therapy-needing right now. "I never let people die," Xander protested.

"Why are you asking him for anything? He is human," Penn spat out, using the word human like a curse word.

"You let the human in the auction die," Angel said to Xander with undisguised confusion, completely ignoring Penn.

"Which one? Because I am voting 'no' to letting people die."

"The young man who wanted the mummy."

"Oh." Xander cringed as he remembered the guy. "Okay, but he was sort of bringing his own death on. I mean, when you go running at death squealing with girly joy, you kinda get what you're asking for."

"You let him die because he squealed?" Angel tilted his head as he clearly struggled to understand that rule.

Xander closed his eyes and shook his head as he realized what Angel had thought. "You thought I let him die because he wasn't clan." It was a very vampy way of looking at things.

"Well... yes," Angel said. "You accepted Spike and you let the man in the auction run to his death."

Xander walked to the bed and sat down as he realized just how far off the moral deep end Angel had just fallen. "Newsflash, Angel. People who only save family and let everyone else die... they're pretty much evil. Not slaying evil, but the sort of evil you don't sit down and have lunch and lemonade with."

"But..."

"I let the guy at the auction die because he didn't want to be saved. He was running right for evil with a big old smile on his face. It's like the suckhouses. If we went in there and staked all the vamps, those humans would be going out the next night looking for new vamps." Angel was still looking confused. "Maybe it's more like my father," Xander tried again. "He would totally take my help if by help I meant money. But he isn't really asking for help, and I can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. So, I just don't talk to him. But Spike came to us for help. He wanted to be part of the family, and he changed to make himself fit into our lives. Even Harmony came asking for help and offering to try and change. It's the whole wanting to change versus wanting to live in evil."

"It's like Gunn," Graham said softly, stepping closer.

"The guy you and Faith have been training?" Xander asked.

Graham nodded. "He's busting his ass to do the right thing, so Faith and I spend a lot of time training his crew. Maybe other people are out there dying because we don't always finish the entire patrol, but the right thing is to help people who really want to be helped. They do. Besides, if Gunn and Alonna and Joey and the others can learn to take care of themselves, then we can hold that neighborhood. We have to choose where we can maximize our impact."

"Do the most good with the little time we actually have," Xander summarized.

"It's a solid military tactic."

"And that's way less morally creepy than just helping family, which sounds a lot like just helping yourself."

"Angelus? What are they going on about?" Penn demanded. Xander looked up in time to see Penn outlined in dust before his figure exploded and tiny bits of ash floated to the floor.

"They're just explaining where I misunderstood something important," Angel told the small pile of ash left on the floor.

"Okay, that was unexpected and yet anticlimactic."

"I have to say, I expected more fight out of a 200 year old vampire," Graham agreed.

"He always was too predictable," Angel said without any hint of sorrow at having just dusted his kid. "I'm surprised he lived this long. And he never would have asked for help or tried to change. He liked the world of hatred I showed him too much. That's why I chose him, so I wouldn't be alone in my hatred for the world." Angel reached out a hand toward Xander. When Xander put his own hand in Angel's, Angel pulled him up and slipped an arm around his shoulders before guiding him toward the exit. "Let's go home."


	32. 32

Angel watched as Wesley slowly blushed until he looked like he might catch fire, even without Jheira using her sexual heat on him.

"Yes, well, just doing my job." Wesley stammered the words out, and Angel could tell that more than one of the women from Oden Tal were taken with him. Then again, after surviving slavery and a government that would turn them into slaves and sexual submissives by physically removing their will, the women had good cause to be attracted to a man who didn't want to dominate them.

"Your job will save many of my people," Jheira told him, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. Wesley's face brightened even more.

"Sometimes the intel is more important that the frontline battle," Graham agreed with her.

"Battle's more fun, though," Faith added, leaning into his side. From the smell, Graham was not only satisfying her but also making her happy. Angel was grateful for that. Hopefully Graham would continue to be good for her because a break up would not be comfortable in the middle of the clan, not that he was worried. Graham had clearly waited until Faith was ready to have a relationship that was healthy. Xander leaned into Angel, and Angel was temporarily distracted from clan business by the smell of an excited and sweaty Xander. The battle with the Vigories had been short and brutal—at least for the Vigories—but Xander had actually made his first kill in weeks.

"Hey, I think the ability to control that portal so the Vigories can't follow is very much of the good. That was a seriously good job, Wesley," Xander offered.

"Yes, well, it was an impressive bit of synthesis between Sumerian and Vo'tak incantations, if I do say so myself." Wesley smiled at the group, and then nearly died of blushing when Jheira smiled back. The man might not be a fighter. In fact, Angel had nearly broken Wesley's neck himself after Wesley had accidentally tripped Xander during the battle, but he was finding his own way.

"You have all earned our gratitude. Your people have great hearts."

"Yep, that's us, all heartlike." Xander smiled and slipped an arm around Angel's waist.

"And feel free to show us your gratitude in any way you would care to, but gemstones are always a welcome tribute," Cordelia answered. Angel sighed. Luckily, Jheira was far more understanding, perhaps because she was a leader who had to care for the practical details for her people. Angel was starting to understand that having Spike to enforce demonic etiquette and Cordelia to manage money made his life infinitely easier.

"I have asked one of my sisters to bring a piece of jewelry I inherited from my family. I would be grateful if you would accept it as a proper tribute."

Cordelia gave Jheira a nod that suggested that she was happy. "And if you ever need a place to hide, just let us know and we'll get the fourth floor cleared out for you."

"I will keep your clan in mind. I hope we will continue to be allies for many years."

Harmony opened her mouth to make some comment that would probably end the alliance on the spot, but Spike walked by and pinched her arm in passing before moving to Cordelia's side.

"Ow!" Harmony loudly complained, rubbing her arm.

"I hope we meet again soon," Jhiera offered.

"Next time, just try to avoid assuming I'm one of the bad guys," Angel suggested. While he could understand her suspicion, he did not appreciate the way she'd attacked when he and Spike had gotten too close to the place where the portal was about to deliver one of the Oden Tal women. If he'd been human, the spear through the stomach would have been a problem.

Jhiera looked away, clearly chastised. That was all Angel had wanted—proof that the woman would be a little more careful about who might get caught in the middle of her war. Of course, Wesley's incantations would make that much easier since they would have a lot more control over the portal's location and who could follow. The Vigories were going to find their females much harder to track.

"Your point is well taken. Not all males are our enemies."

"Not even most," Xander added. "Lots don't even know who you are, but if you go stabbing everyone first, that makes it hard to find friends." Xander's fingers drifted over to the place where the spear had gone into Angel's stomach. The scar had lasted less than a day, but Angel was more than happy to be skewered if it meant getting such attention from Xander.

"Wise words," Jhiera agreed. "You have the gratitude of my people." With that, she gave Angel a nod of respect and she headed for the doors.

"I like them. They didn't slime anything," Harmony said cheerfully. Spike threw her a look, and she rolled her eyes. Clearly, she wasn't too intimidated, and that might be dangerous in other circumstances. Right now, they were all tired and Angel knew he was too pleased about how things had turned out to get too upset, even with Harmony's vapid observations.

"Don't you have some work?" Spike asked.

"Nope. All the sheets are washed and dried and folded and the floors polished and I got the crusted slime off the bathtub in 308. Demon strength is handy with housework." Harmony looked around at the rest of them. Angel sighed, and he figured in about two seconds, their happy little family was going to explode into violence as Spike taught her a few manners and Xander got upset about Spike's methods.

"Hey, Harmony, how about I show you how to clean the weapons?" Graham asked, neatly heading off the potential problem.

"Okay!" Harmony chirped the word out. Clearly, the demon had absorbed the girl's personality.

"You want to come with?" Graham asked Faith, slipping a hand around her waist and pulling her in for a quick kiss.

"Nope." Faith patted his shoulder. "You're on your own. I'm going to go take a long, hot bath in my oversized garden tub. Just me, myself, and I." Faith wiggled to make it perfectly clear what Graham could be doing if he followed her. But then she laughed. "You can join me after you've shown Harm all the joys of the proper cleaning of crossbow tillers."

"Can I join you, too?" Harmony asked with a bright smile. Angel felt a wave of shock at that. He wasn't sure if his demonic half was stunned that a minion would be so forward or that his human half was stunned over her casual request for homosexual sex. He and Xander had fumbled and struggled through that issue, and Harmony just stood with a hopeful expression as Faith stared at her.

"Bloody—" Spike muttered, but Faith spoke up before he could finish the thought, which was probably good because the thought was sure to be followed with a fist to the face.

"I appreciate the interest, but not this time," Faith said carefully. Now Graham looked like he was mere seconds from laughing.

"You guys have fun, but I am tired and dirty, and I have my own oversized bath waiting for me," Xander said. He moved toward the stairs, tugging at Angel to pull him along. Angel resisted for one second, watching with amusement as Xander figured out that he couldn't move Angel. Xander stopped and raised an eyebrow at Angel, waiting for him. Angel smiled and reached out to catch Xander by the back of the neck to pull him in for a kiss.

"Get a room," Faith advised them as she passed on the way toward the stairs.

"Yes, well, I have some translations..." Wesley coughed. Angel didn't stop kissing Xander until he'd heard Wesley hurry out of the room. Then Angel finally released Xander. Xander's lips were swollen and red from the kiss, and his eyes were half closed in pleasure. The scents drifting up were enough to make any demon mad with lust.

"Don't think it." Cordelia's voice was sharp and Angel looked over to find Spike watching with a thoughtful expression.

"Wot?"

"You can just stop thinking about it." Cordelia put her hands on her hips.

"Wasn't thinking of leaving you out, luv," Spike offered, ducking his head and moving closer to her. Cordelia didn't pull away, and Spike slipped his hands onto her hips and leaned in to rest his head against hers. "Would never want anyone more than I want you," he promised. Angel watched them with amusement. How many times had he seen Spike use that same gesture with Dru? But with Dru, her eyes would always seek Angelus. Sooner or later, she would push Spike aside even though he would have walked into the sun to make her happy. But now, Cordelia didn't have eyes for anyone but Spike. She had a sharp tongue, but under all that, she was as sentimental as William ever had been. They were a good pairing. However, Angel was still happy they couldn't procreate.

"Come on," Graham headed for the weapons cabinet. "You have to oil the wood to make sure it doesn't crack when those two go pulling on it with super strength."

"I miss sex," Harmony complained softly as she followed him.

"Hey, I've gone years between lovers, so I don't even want to hear it," Graham said.

"Okay, seriously, I want a bath," Xander whispered as he leaned his body into Angel's. This time he didn't try to pull Angel away, instead he just blinked up with pleading eyes.

"You do smell bad," Angel teased. Xander hit him in the stomach. "Come on," Angel said, as he captured the offending hand and led Xander up toward their room. Angel could smell the desire on Xander's skin, mingling with the sweat and the blood of their vanquished enemies. It was intoxicating.

"You did well, a m'fhear."

"I kicked demon ass," Xander agreed. "It's a little weird being so much better than someone else."

"Wesley," Angel said without emotion.

"Hey, he did good with the research and the magic and the book-type stuff."

"He tripped you."

"Okay, not be logical or anything, but I used to trip you lots. Spike once sat on me and threatened to shave my head if I didn't stop tripping him." Angel frowned as he remembered that night. It seemed so long ago. Back then, he had struggled with his relationship with Xander. Was he father figure or a friend. He had nearly driven himself mad trying to get Xander to eat vegetables after Blair had said that good parents made their children eat vegetables. Actually, he'd been able to get Faith to follow the rules, but Xander always seemed to make his own rules.

Right outside the door to their suite, Angel pulled Xander close and kissed those swollen lips again. Xander's body radiated heat like the sun, and Angel slipped his hands under the shirt, seeking that warmth. When Angel finally pulled back to allow Xander to breathe, he just sighed happily and rested his head against Angel's chest. "If we do this here, Graham is going to get an eyeful," Xander warned, but Angel also noticed he didn't try to move Angel.

"He doesn't get to see you," Angel said as he pushed Xander through the door to their suite.

"Good, because that whole thing with keeping it inside the clan? Not really for me. I prefer to keep it just for you."

"Not even Spike?" Angel asked, honestly curious. As long as he controlled the pairing, it would be normal for him to share his lover with other masters in the court.

"Not even Spike." Xander agreed. "He got all weird when I accidently implied that he wasn't as good as you in bed."

"You told him that?" Angel pulled back and studied Xander. He'd seen some of Xander's coupling with Spike, and he knew that Spike had explored sexual variations Angelus had never bothered with. More than that, Spike had experimented with pleasuring humans even before Angel had been cursed with his soul. While Angel had just tried to get his end off, Spike had been fascinated with forcing the human to come. Angelus had thought young William was finally learning the value of humiliation as a form of torture, but now Angel suspected that he might have discovered that the desire lent its own flavor to the blood. Either way, if Xander had said that Spike had more skill, Angel could not have faulted him.

Xander reached up and traced a finger along Angel's jaw. "I totally told him that because it's true. I never felt as happy with him as I do with you. Ever. Not even in the ballpark. Not even in the parking lot of the ballpark. And I really think it sorta hurt his feelings because he swore some when I said a little more of that than I meant to."

Angel felt an unfamiliar pressure in his chest as he realized Xander was telling him the truth. "M'fhear," He whispered before he kicked their door closed and slipped his hand inside Xander's shirt again. His lover was wearing entirely too many clothes, so he solved that by pulling the last two buttons free so the shirt could fall to the ground.

Now he could breathe in Xander's musk. Their room always smelled of desire and satisfaction, but it was always sweetest when it came from the source. He licked the curve of Xander's neck, and Xander tilted his head submissively. For a moment, he sucked the sensitive skin, feeling Xander squirm as his desire rose. Xander's heartbeat became the drum that measured time as fangs pressed into the flesh. If he bit too hard, his front teeth would rip and scar the skin, and he would never allow that. He would never mark his boy. No whip or scar would ever mar the perfect tan canvass.

"I love you," Xander vowed while his lover drank the blood offered up to him with such devotion.

 

Lorne walked into the lobby of the Hyperion hotel. Xander had really done a fabulous job restoring the old girl's former glamour. If sales went well the next quarter at Caritas, he was definitely going to see if he could borrow the boy for some remodeling over at his place. He could just imagine a 1920's art deco feel around the karaoke stage. Spike and Cordelia were at the front desk and Merl was just coming down the stairs from the guest rooms.

"Good evening gents and one very special lady," Lorne greeted everyone. Spike was watching him suspiciously, but then the job of a good enforcer was to be suspicious.

"Lorne!" Merl called out, hurrying down the rest of the stairs.

"Oh, you are looking better already," Lorne greeted him. "I told you those sewers are not good for your health. So, how do you like the quarters?"

"The room is great, and they have a basement full of mice, just like you said. The vampires are a little cranky." Merl wrinkled his nose to show his dislike for creatures that couldn't show a few good manners. That was one of the things Lorne appreciated about Merl—there weren't many demons who had a good sense of manners. God knows his own family thought manners meant you introduced yourself before you ate someone for dinner.

"The vampires aren't here to play nice," Spike said in a voice that made him sound fairly cranky. Merl just rolled his eyes, so Lorne was guessing Spike's bark was worse than his bite—at least with residents. The whole demonic community was still reeling over their attack on Hainsley. The man had been decapitated before he even knew he had intruders in the house, and vampires who would go after necromancers were either insane or so incredible good they didn't have to fear anyone. Most of the demonic community was still trying to figure out which one these two were. Either way, no one was interested in challenging them. Some of the big name players had already moved out of town.

"Harmony is nice. I like her," Merl told Spike as he passed him in the lobby.

"Harmony?" Now that was a name Lorne could appreciate. He wondered if her voice lived up to her melodious name.

"She'd bloody well better be nice if she knows what's good for her unlife." Spike had been leaning against the counter while Cordelia typed, but now he pushed himself off and strolled into the middle of the lobby with a swagger Lorne usually only saw in old Westerns when the hero and the villain were about to shoot each other. Merl just shook his head and disappeared through a door that led into a dark hallway.

"Well, Sweetcheeks," Lorne said. He tried hard not to smile as Spike's eyes narrowed in warning. "I just thought I would drop by with a little message from the Furies." Immediately all the posturing vanished, and Spike's attention was totally focused on Lorne. It was a disconcerting feeling, having all of Spike's attention that way. "Now don't get yourself in a twist. Apparently, someone has cast a little bit of a good luck spell on the hotel, something that would make everything here just a little brighter and happier. The Furies didn't catch it right away because they were shielding from the more dastardly sorts of magic. Anyway, they wanted me to ask your fearless leader if he wants this new spell blocked."

Spike looked over his should at Cordelia. "This some tribute from a guest?"

"Not that anyone told me about. Kelis just keeps sending enné since he heard it made Xander so happy. Telis'a is the only other demon who owes us tribute right now, and we aren't going to get a penny out of her until you beat it out of her."

Spike shrugged. "That's the nature of a T'sist demon. I'll put her on the list for a little reminder about the need to show respect. Could it be that family of things that slimed the stairs?"

"The Ut? No, we're still in the middle of this entire ritual with apologies and antapologies and carefully worded threats. As much work as everyone put into getting those stairs done, I'm not going to call it quits on that ceremony for at least two more weeks. Those slimy little things are going to pay for all that carpet cleaning." Cordelia crossed her arms, and it occurred to Lorne that he truly wouldn't want to cross that woman any more than he'd want to cross Spike. Hell, he'd try to hire her away from Angel, only he was afraid he'd end up someone's dinner if he tried.

Spike frowned. "Don't really like the thought of someone casting spells. Have 'em block the spell until we can figure out who's throwing the mojo around," Spike said.

"You got it. Anything for my favorite entrepreneurs." If Angel were around, Lorne wouldn't mind catching up, but Spike was not the sort of vampire he really wanted to spend a whole lot of time around, so it was time for an exit, stage left.

Lorne had passed the first double doors and they were almost shut when the sound of footsteps through the lobby and someone whistling happily drifted out after him. Images crashed through Lorne's mind: death and burning, the sun being swallowed by darkness and a dragon flying against the moon, a young man with a sword in his hand, and people called him death. He was the bringer of death and death was a mercy in a world turned hell. And Angel stood, silent and bleeding and watching death with a fondness that Lorne didn't understand until after the whistling had stopped and the vision drifted away like smoke blown by a gentle breeze. The images still clung to him, and Lorne found he had fallen to his knees. Struggling back up to his feet, he looked in through the window back into the hotel. Angel was gone; the door to the kitchen was just falling shut leaving Spike and Cordelia, once again, alone in the lobby.

A little part of Lorne wanted to just stay out of it. He could use the information to get out while the getting was still good. There were plenty of other dimensions to set up in. But he didn't like the other dimensions as much, and humans were such wonderfully entertaining creatures. Mind made up, Lorne walked back into the lobby and wiggled a finger to summon Spike. Spike did not look amused at the gesture, but he did cross the lobby.

"Angel's soul is gone. That was Angelus," Lorne whispered when Spike was close enough. Spike's eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Lorne turned and hurried out. Even if he didn't move to another dimension, it was time to vacation in one.


	33. 33

"Oh, hello." Father Peter sounded confused when he opened the door to find them standing on his church steps.

"We need a place to use, and we were hoping to borrow the church," Xander said with his best charming smile. It wasn't easy when he was totally and completely freaking out. Spike hadn't done more than hiss the word "Angelus" before throwing pants at him and all but dragging him out of the hotel. Actually, Spike had dragged everyone out, so Xander could only hope that meant Angel had gone out. Or Angelus had gone out. And Xander was totally NOT going to think about what kind of chore Angelus might need to run.

"The church?" Now Father Peter sounded more confused.

"They want to borrow the church. I feel all icky here," Harmony complained softly. "I want to go home." Spike glared over and he might have hit her, only he had one hand on Cordelia's back, and with the other, he was still clutching Wesley's arm. Wesley had stopped protesting and just sort of gone along with the semi-kidnapping as Spike hurried him out of the hotel.

"You'll feel more icky if you get eviscerated by Angelus," Xander pointed out. Harmony got a pouting expression on her face, but she didn't disagree with that.

"Angelus?" Father Peter frowned.

"Bloody hell, either step aside so we can come inside or just shut the fucking door so we can go somewhere else," Spike snapped.

"No, of course I wouldn't shut the door. Come in." Father Peter stepped back to allow them into the church. Xander hurried in. When he held the door open for Faith, he exchanged a worried look with Graham. She was being way too quiet, which probably meant she was freaking out. Xander was feeling like doing a little freaking of his own, so he couldn't exactly blame her. It just felt wrong to see her so lost. She hadn't been this out of it since the whole confusion with the sex and the having sex with him and the guilt that followed.

Spike came through the door with a flash of yellow eyes, but Xander didn't realize why until Harmony trailed in at the end. "Ewwwww. I don't like how that makes me feel!" she said, pointing to the cross.

Father Peter looked up. "We do have quite a few of them."

"We'll deal with it," Spike said, giving Harmony a look that very clearly said she would deal with it or he would make her sorry.

"The basement!" Father Peter offered. "We're in the middle of remodeling, so the religious icons have been removed. He hurried to a side door and led them down a narrow stair into the basement where a hallway led into rooms full of folding chairs, stacks of drywall, and 1970's green carpeting. "What is going on? Where's Angel?"

"Good bloody question," Spike said under his breath.

"Someone cast a happiness spell to try and strip Angel's soul away from his demon," Cordelia explained.

"Dear Lord," Wesley breathed as he finally figured out why they'd fled the hotel.

"I'm pretty sure He didn't do it," Xander answered.

Father Peter stopped at a door at the end of the hallway right by the emergency exit sign. "I doubt He would," Father Peter agreed. "However, are you trying to say that someone intentionally tried to remove Angel's soul?"

"Looks like," Xander agreed.

"And we've got to do a little plannin' before we find ourselves nose deep in shite and trying to swim," Spike suggested, which was funny because he wasn't really big on planning. Then again, normally he just plowed through his enemies and took what he wanted. It was a little harder when the enemy you were trying to fight was also the person you loved. Xander could sympathize with that, because he was in exactly the same position. The thought of Angelus being on the loose was scaring the shit out of him, and he kept remembering that woman in the suckhouse with her wide, empty eyes after Angelus had drained her.

"How bad is this?" Graham asked. He took a seat on a long table set up at the side of the room. Carpet layers had set out samples on it, and Graham pushed those back. Faith stood next to him, her hip resting against his knee, but she just stared into space.

Spike snorted. "Plenty bad, mate. Didn't you read up on your history? I figured the Watcher up in Sunnyhell would have filled you full of stories of the Scourge of Europe."

"I didn't believe most of them," Graham answered.

"You bloody well should have. The Watcher is a bloody prick, but I've never heard him say anything that wasn't true," Spike said. Xander watched as a whole lot of the color fled from Graham's face.

"But Angelus was out once before, in Sunnydale."

"Yeah, but he still had that soul hanging around his neck like a soddin' albatross reminding him that if he fucked up again, the soul was going to make him pay for fair. Now, that soul's gone. He's really free." Spike leaned against one of the support pillars and Cordelia stood near him, her face twisted with worry.

"Free? His soul is gone?" Yep Father Peter was now freaking out with the rest of them.

"Flew the coop like a bird, although Angelus is actually the one who's free now. We don't actually know what happened with the soul," Xander confirmed.

"Right. And we have to figure out our next move before Angelus gets us on the run. If we don't think one step ahead of us, he'll get us chasing our tails and force us to react to his moves." Spike spoke confidently, but he looked at Cordelia for some sort of sign. She nodded slowly. "So, he's going to go for any vulnerable spots. Faith's da is dead, but how do you feel about your mum?" Spike turned to Faith. She looked up at him, too shocked to even understand the question for several seconds as she just stared at him.

"Faith, if Angelus took your mom prisoner, how would you feel?" Graham asked softly, his hand reaching out for her shoulder.

"Let him have her," Faith said with a half shrug. "She sold my ass often enough, so she's on her own." Graham flinched back from the words, but Spike looked pleased.

"Angelus is sure to know you feel that way, so we don't need to worry about her. Cordy's folks are safe for the same reason. Graham, you got any family for him to use against you?"

Graham looked away from Faith after a second. "Um... an older brother I'm not really close to. I never talked about him with Angel, so I don't think that's a security breach."

"So, it seems like the one in the most immediate danger is Blair," Spike said. Xander's guts dropped as he thought about Angelus targeting Blair.

"He wouldn't," Xander whispered, not because he believed Angelus wouldn't, but more because he didn't want Angelus to.

"We all bloody care about him, so he soddin' well would. His first goal is going to be to get us emotionally off-balance, so he'll play dirty. We need to make sure that he can't do that."

"Oh shit. My mom." Xander felt like he had just been punched again. His stomach was starting to physically hurt. "He knows he can get to me through my mom."

Spike's expression hardened, and for a half second, Xander was terrified that Spike was going to tell him some version of 'tough shit.' Instead he gave a short nod. "Right then, we can either go get the bird or send someone over to provide protection."

"Buffy?" Cordelia asked. From the sour look on Spike's face, that hadn't been his first choice.

"I suppose she'd work. It is her bloody job to protect the unprotected and all that rot." Spike reached into his coat and pulled out a cigarette. Normally he just played with them, letting one dangle from his lips unlit. This time he pulled out his lighter and lit it. Yep, stress abounded.

Xander cringed as another thought came to him. "Um, Spike, how do we keep Buffy from wanting to come up here and get her slay on?"

"Why would she?" Spike tilted his head like Xander had just said something particularly confusing.

"If we ask her to protect my mom from Angel, I think she's going to know something is up. I mean, she might believe that Angel would go after my father, and she would totally believe it if we said Angel was going after Faith's father, well, except for the part where he's dead, but if we say Angel is going after my mom, she's going to figure out that he's gone soulless. And she'll think slaying is the best way to protect the world from a potential Scourge of California."

Spike's eyes flashed yellow, so clearly he was still feeling more than a little left-over loyalty for his sire. "We don't bloody tell that chit anything. If she comes down here hunting, I'll take my fourth slayer."

"Which would be bad," Cordelia quickly interjected.

"Why?" Harmony looked at Spike with worshipful eyes. "I think it's totally awesome how strong you are." She blinked at Spike. From the look Cordelia was giving her, stakage was about to happen.

Xander interrupted before Harmony ended up dead because he was so betting on Cordelia in that fight. Even if Harmony was a demon, she was still Harmony. "That's feeling a little on the not-nice side, not telling them that someone let Angelus out of the soul. What if he goes after them?" Xander hated even saying the words, but he wasn't an idiot. He'd read all about the Angelus and William days when they'd tortured their way across a continent. Spike had always been more about following than getting creative with the torture, but Angelus had specialized in mind games and going after friends and relatives. It was feeling suddenly very odd that Xander knew what Angelus hands felt like skimming over his lust warm skin. Those same hands had tortured and murdered.

"He won't bother," Spike said with confidence.

"Um... you do remember his love for friends and family, and I do not mean the warm and fuzzy sort of love."

"Yeah, pet, I do." Spike's voice softened as he looked at Xander. "I remember every minute of what the bastard did, and I remember enjoying more than a few of those minutes. But he's all about fighting when he knows he can win. The slayer's a big bite and now that she's got a whole unit of soldier-boys backing her up, she's not an easy target."

"And Angelus goes for easy targets?"

"Every bloody time, pet. Penn was a fucking nancy-boy, Dru was helpless, hell, most of the humans he tortured didn't even know how to kill him. The slayer knows him, knows his fighting style, and she trusts him as far as she can throw him ever since the soulless one came out at her Christmas party. He won't go after her unless she challenges him. Bloody hell, even if she does challenge him, he'll probably find a way to go after everyone but her. When he had a vampire hunter target him, he just went for the bloke's family. He didn't fight the man with the stake; he ate the bugger's wife and kiddies instead. "

"Which is another reason why my mom is in danger," Xander said. His mom was a whole lot better than she had been during her marriage. She was sober and employed and even had friends who she made weird scrapbooks with, but she wasn't exactly healthy or strong or high on the able to defend herself list.

"Yeah, pet, she is. Angelus is going to want to prove that he isn't weak, so he'll want to force you back to his side, maybe even turn you."

Xander thought about how U'talaba had looked at Angel once he'd seen that Angel had a human slave. Among demons, vampires were the lowest ranking, and Angelus was going to remember how Angel had earned a little respect by controlling his bloodlust. "He won't turn me."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Spike advised him.

"I would." Xander looked right at Spike. "He'll try to get me back and I don't know what he's going to be like in bed now because I suspect I've always seen a lot more of the soul than the demon in bed, but he won't turn me and he won't do anything that would injure me seriously enough to keep me away from other demons."

"Xander..." Graham stopped after one word, but it was fairly clear that he was questioning Xander's sanity.

"Hey, I am not looking to test that theory. I say we just keep clear until we figure out what to do, because right now, I have no idea what I'm supposed to be hoping for. I just know that if Angelus does get me, he's not going to kill me unless I do something that makes me worthless as a slave." The silence that answered him made it pretty clear that the rest of them thought he had lost his mind.

"Boy might be right," Spike finally admitted. "Angelus usually killed humans before he figured out the advantages of keeping them around. Xander taught him a few things about how much pleasure humans can give. The bastard is going to follow his own pleasure, and if he gets pleasure out of having Xander human, he'll keep him that way."

Xander shook his head. "I'm not sure it's even that. He just gets pleasure out of having other demons see me. They know he's strong enough to control his blood lust and they respect him more when I'm around."

Spike might look convinced, but Graham was still looking not so sure. "Xander, I'm not suggesting you're wrong, but that is a lot of conjecture, and I would not want to risk your life on a long-shot like that."

"And I wouldn't want to risk your life or your soul. You're talking about taking a chance at being turned into a demon," Father Peter said. It was actually kind of sweet that the man was still worried after Xander had boycotted the church.

Graham turned to the priest. "If he were turned, his soul would just move on to heaven. Turning couldn't put his soul in any danger... could it?"

Father Peter's expression wasn't exactly comforting. "The church simply can't say. I can safely say that I have turned into one of the Vatican's most versed experts in demonology, and all I can say is that his soul might be in danger. Some experts believe the soul flees and the demon takes control. However, there are cases of an experienced sire attempting to turn a human and the human doesn't wake up. That has led some priests to speculate that the demon can't drive the soul out, but instead it corrupts the soul—brings out the worst in it. But that those who don't wake up as vampires have simply resisted the temptation."

"That's an unpleasant thought." Graham was looking mighty unhappy, but next to Angel and Father Peter, he was the most religious one of the bunch, so Xander could understand how the thought of his soul being vamped was worse than a vamp moving in after evicting his soul from the body.

"Wait a second. The gypsies cursed Angel with a soul. How could they have done that if he already had his soul?" Cordelia demanded.

"There are no easy answers. The gypsies may have cursed him with a conscience or simply returned his soul to its original state before the demon corrupted it. I truly don't know. I'm sorry. I wish I did. I don't have answers, and I truly believe that the cardinals at the Vatican are as uninformed as I am."

"Bloody worthless, the lot of you," Spike said, but he said it with a sigh instead of a snarl, so Xander didn't think he meant it.

"And we're still back to the original question," Xander said. They could debate souls and blame until cows came home from Mars in a rocket ship with little green guys, and that still didn't fix the mountain of problems they had just inherited. "What about my mom?"

"Let's give Buffy another explanation for why she needs protection," Graham said. Faith was still standing next to him silent and unnaturally still, but then Xander figured Angel had pretty much gone father-figure on her, and having one more father figure turn on you was therapy inducing.

"Such as?" Spike asked.

"We tell her that someone tortured information out of Harmony, and we need some assistance guarding potential targets while we focus on eliminating the threat."

"Um, newsflash." Xander held up his hand. "They don't know Harmony is the undead kind of dead."

"Exactly," Graham said with a smile. "Buffy and Giles will be so distracted with that new intel that they won't go looking any farther."

"Bloody hell, you'd make a fine vampire, pet."

Graham frowned at Spike. "Let's not test that hypothesis."

"Just sayin'," Spike said with a shrug, but then Xander didn't think Cordelia would let him turn anyone. It was just the nicest thing Spike could think of to say. Spike had told him that lots, and Xander was fairly sure Spike was lying about that one. "Right then, call the slayer up and ask her to put Xander's mum on the patrol schedule."

"Done." Graham stood up, but then he stopped and got that look on his face that meant he was about to say something that no one wanted to hear. For someone who was a big-bad army special ops guy, his poker face sucked like a really sucky thing.

"Spit it out," Spike ordered. Yep, Graham's poker face majorly sucked.

"I should give Riley a heads up."

Spike's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, and Graham hurried to continue. "I'm not saying that I should brief him on the issue. I just think he needs to know we have a potential problem. If I put the code word in with the intel about Harmony, he may even assume she's the potential danger."

"If you're not telling him about Angelus, what's the advantage of telling him anything at all?" Spike demanded.

"It will warn him to keep sharp. He'll increase patrols, and avoid this area for fear of getting in the middle of an active engagement."

Spike glanced over toward Cordelia. She might be quiet, but Xander figured she was the real power in the room because Spike would push everything and everyone to get her what she wanted. They exchanged a glance, and while Xander couldn't tell what either of them were thinking, they obviously came to some sort of agreement.

"What's the code word?" Spike asked.

For a brief second, Graham hesitated. "Cheerios."

Xander couldn't prevent a laugh from slipping past his lips. This whole situation was so fucked up, that the word just felt like a piece out of a Monty Python skit or something. Maybe Graham knew what Xander was thinking because he smiled, too.

"The whole point of a codeword is to sound innocuous," he defended himself with a grin.

"And what would you say if you needed him to come riding in with the cavalry?" Spike demanded. He was not grinning.

"Wheaties," Graham answered immediately. For some reason, that made Spike happy, and he nodded.

"Right then, give Captain Courageous a call and let him know we have some troubles. Just make sure he blames Harmony."

"Hey!" she protested loudly. However, when both Cordelia and Spike glared at her, she shrank back and shut up. Oddly, Xander was starting to feel some sympathy for her.

"Perhaps I can bring up an unrelated matter," Wesley suggested. Next to Faith, he looked like he had the biggest case of the wiggins, which was weird because Xander hadn't thought Wesley was all that close to Angel.

Spike looked over.

"I find myself in the uncomfortable position of having to go back."

"Whoa, okay, so not a good idea," Xander blurted out.

"Wesley?" Cordelia took a step forward like she was going to tackle him if he tried anything that insane, and Graham's mouth just about fell open. Spike was the only one who didn't look shocked.

"It getting bad?" he asked.

Wesley nodded. "I fear that I won't be able to hold out for much longer. I should go before I compromise any plans."

"No worries. You haven't heard anything that I wouldn't want Peaches to hear," Spike said. Xander thought his head was going to fall off because he kept looking back and forth from Wesley to Spike to Wesley and back to Spike, and yet there weren't many answers falling out of either one of them. Eventually it was Wesley who sighed.

"You might as well tell them. It's not as if I didn't bring this on myself. My father would say that I am coming to the end I deserve, but I do hope Xander is correct about Angelus wanting to prove his status by keeping humans around. I don't fancy becoming a vampire, and I suspect I would be as unsuccessful as a demon as I was as a Watcher."

Wesley turned to leave, but Father Peter moved to block his escape. "How can the rest of you let him go to his possible death?" he demanded, glaring at the group.

"As one of the rest, I'm just too confused to know what's going on," Xander defended himself.

"Father, while I appreciate the concern, this truly is out of their control. I signed a contract that bound me to a demon named U'talaba, not out of any sycophantic need to enslave myself, but rather because I mistranslated a rather important phrase. When U'talaba sold that contract to Angel, all the rights transferred to him. I had hoped that the spell would recognize Angel and Angelus as two distinct individuals, but from the compulsion I am currently experiencing, clearly that is not the case. So, I am left with either having to return to Angelus or asking Spike to simply kill me. I would rather avoid death," Wesley paused, "for now."

"Surely we can find some other solution." Father Peter turned to glare at Spike. Yeah, like that would work.

"Not before his head implodes from the force of the spell. And if his head is going to pop like an overripe cherry, we should probably move him to another room. Brains do make a mess when they get splattered over the carpet," Spike offered. Father Peter lost all his color, and there for a second Xander thought he might get sick. "I thought the spell might cut him some slack seeing as how I just grabbed him up without giving him a choice, so if that didn't work, he's right about his choices." Spike reached out and ground out the butt of his cigarette on an old coffee table, the smell of hot varnish rising as he burned the wood.

Father Peter turned to Graham. "Do you have any idea what he'll endure?" Graham didn't answer, but he'd gone all stone-faced, which was a sort of answer in itself.

"If he doesn't, I certainly do," Wesley straightened up and stood with his back stiff. "I am not a naïve child. Angelus shall certainly rape me in order to demonstrate his dominance. If I offer any sort of resistance, he will torture me, whip me, or simply kill me. However, if Xander is correct that Angelus has learned to appreciate the respect that human slaves afford him, then he may be willing to leave me in relative peace as I perform my work." Wesley spoke the words so matter-of-fact that the horror behind them seemed twice as bad. Xander cringed at the thought of Angelus doing any of that, but he had to admit it was likely.

"Wait. HE gets to have sex with Angel? I thought Angel was all weird about only having sex with Xander and Spike." Harmony crossed her arms and managed to look pissed and hurt all at the same time. Xander could only stare at her silently because the words to describe how very horrified he was didn't exist. He needed bigger words. He needed a stake, and he'd never felt that way about Harmony before.

"I hardly think that Angel is the same as Angelus," Wesley answered before the rest of them could recover. Until this moment, Xander hadn't realized just how much steel the ex-Watcher had in his backbone. Yeah, it took some nerve to be a Watcher, but Watchers weren't usually the ones doing the walking into vampire lairs. They were more the kind to stand back and point where other people should go. No wonder Wesley didn't fit in with them. For that matter, no wonder Giles was not big with the Watcher-love, either. "That being said, there are very few choices here, and I prefer to leave before my brains are in danger of staining the upholstery."

Again, Wesley turned to leave.

"So he gets to have sex with Angel AND he gets to go back to his own room? I want to be Wesley," Harmony said in a pout that rivaled any that human Harmony had ever used.

"So, go then," Spike said, jerking his head toward the door in an invitation for her to leave.

For a second, she froze. Slowly, a smile formed. "Really?"

"Go on. Keep Peaches happy, and if anything happens we should know about, call Cordelia on her cell."

For a second, Harmony just stood there, and then with a squeal and a bounce, she rushed over and grabbed at Wesley's arm like he was taking her to prom or something. "Can I tell Angelus that I captured you and I'm bringing you back? That would so impress him," she said as they started for the door.

"While I am not the best equipped fighter, I assure you that I am quite capable of pulling your hair and making you break a nail in any attempt to subdue me, so the answer to that would be no," Wesley said firmly.

"You don't have to be mean about it. It was only a question." Harmony sounded so hurt as they walked out of the church basement that Xander suspected Father Peter's priest sources might be right about there being some sort of soul or personality or something inside all vamps. Harmony was just a minion, but she was definitely Harmony. Xander watched Spike who had tilted his head like he was listening. He finally shook his head and held his hand out toward Cordelia. She put her own hand in his, and he pulled her close, taking a second to bury his face in her shoulder and just breathe. Xander could see Spike's back rise with each inhalation.

Angel was his sire, his creator in every way that counted. They'd been lovers and best friends and hunting partners, and Xander didn't want to think how much this was hurting Spike—all this having to plot against Angel. He didn't want to think about it because thinking just reminded him about how his own heart hurt. His chest ached with the loss of his lover and his friend, and Xander didn't know what to do about it. If Angelus started attacking nunneries and orphanages, they were going to have to try and take him out, but Xander could still feel the ghosts of Angel's hands over his body. He still loved him. When Angel had looked at him with that predatory look like he could barely restrain himself from ripping Xander's clothes off and pushing him into bed, Xander had known that was the demon looking at him, wanting to possess him and dominate him and ensure his loyalty. The problem was that Xander did love part of Angelus, so he didn't know how to deal with this.

"Was that safe?" Graham asked quietly.

"Probably safer than keeping her around here," Spike said, turning his head so he could see Graham without letting go of Cordelia.

"She isn't exactly loyal," Cordelia agreed. "If she thinks Angelus will give her give her more status, she'll side with him. She always was one to look for any advantage."

"And Wesley?" Graham asked. He was looking upset, and Faith reached out and slipped her own hand in his, moving closer. He put his hand around her shoulders, but he didn't stop glaring at Spike. Cordelia looked away, catching her lower lip between her teeth in an expression that usually meant she was trying not to cry.

"Boy's got brass knackers hidden under all that foppish talk," Spike said thoughtfully. "I wouldn't have guessed it, and as long as he manages to hide his strength, Angelus is likely to keep him around ta impress the other demons."

"And we're going to let him?" Graham sounded more worried than angry, but Xander could see Spike stiffen anyway, clearly not happy at the challenge.

"We don't have a choice unless you want me ta go after him and break his neck before the binding spell can torture him to death." Spike glared at Graham through narrowed eyes, and Graham dropped his own gaze to the ugly green carpet.

"Maybe I should go back, too," Faith said.

"If you go back, I do too," Graham said firmly.

"Faith would be dead in minutes," Spike said. He sniffed and pulled out another cigarette, but he didn't light it this time. He just stared down at it. It was Cordelia who answered.

"Angelus is going to want to kill or turn anyone who made him feel out like he didn't have all the power. Faith is a slayer, and I've given him a lot of grief about the finances—enough to force him to take in residents and go treasure hunting."

"He won't forgive you for that any time soon," Spike agreed. "And he won't forgive me for taking three slayers. He'll kill Faith just to prove he's the bigger, badder vampire."

"But—" Faith started.

"No. You don't go back." This time Spike snarled the words. "He'll bloody well kill you and hang your skinned body out to drive the rest of us 'round the twist with fury." The room fell silent. Faith pressed her lips into a thin line, but she didn't argue. For long minutes, they stood looking at each other, the broken remains of a family trying to figure out how to relate to each other. Xander wanted to make it all better, but he was so afraid of saying the wrong thing that he stood just as silent as the others.

"Xander?" Father Peter broke the uncomfortable silence. "I don't like the look on your face. Please tell me you aren't considering going back, as well."

Xander blinked. "Um, a little bit of me, sure. But then there's the raping and the dominating, which is not really my kink, so not so much."

Spike looked over, his head tilted as he considered Xander with a speculative expression. "Then what has your knickers in a twist, pet?"

"I'm just..." Xander looked around. Graham had his arms wrapped around Faith's waist. Spike was leaning into Cordelia and Father Peter just looked constipated. Oh yeah, he was about to cross a line he had never wanted to cross, but he couldn't help it. "I'm thinking that if someone put the big mojo on Angel's soul, there's exactly one suspect. And I've always been on the big no-killing-people bandwagon, only now I'm feeling like falling off that bandwagon for a certain witchy-type person."

"Jenny Giles." Spike's voice was unnaturally soft and made a shiver go down Xander's back. Oh yeah, he so would not want to be her right now.

"Vengeance is never the answer," Father Peter started counseling.

"No, but sometimes war is," Graham said firmly. Xander was a little surprised because he'd expected Graham to be on the no-killing-humans side of the moral aisle. "Long before the army told me about vampires and monsters, they trained me to deal with the sort of evil that comes in a human package. Killing is never an easy answer or a quick fix, but if a soldier has to kill in order to protect himself, his unit, his country or innocent civilians, he does it. Right now, I don't see a difference between Jenny Giles and a terrorist who has unloosed a nuclear weapon in downtown LA. If we can capture her, that's fine. If we need to kill her, that's fine, too."

Xander knew his mouth was open, but he was way past shocked and off into gobsmacked-land.

"Right then," Spike said, and he smiled with the sort of glee he got before going hunting. "We cover our flank by making sure Angelus can't go after anyone to hurt us, and then we find Jenny Giles and rip off body parts until she explains exactly what she did."

"Sounds like a plan," Graham agreed. He looked over toward Xander. In fact, Xander realized that all of them were looking at him.

"Maybe we could hold off on the pulling off of body parts, but the finding and potentially killing I'm oddly okay with," Xander said.

"We're set then. Graham, call Sunnyhell and get the soldier boys over to Xander's mum. Xander, you get Blair on the phone and tell him to either drop off the end of the earth or to get his arse back here, and Father Peter..." Spike looked over.

"Yes, as someone who regularly tells Angel to deny his vampire instincts, I do see the need for me to be elsewhere. I think an extended vacation in Vatican City comparing my notes with the archives might be in order."

"Good plan. We'll stay here until near dawn to make sure Angelus doesn't try to make a quick snatch," Spike offered.

"You can stay here," Cordelia said. "Even if Wesley tries to protect our location, Harmony is going to sing like a canary. Faith and I are going to find another lair—somewhere private enough to keep out of Angelus' way while we try to fix this mess." Cordelia held out her hand toward Faith. "Come on. If we leave the boys to this job, they'll have us living in sewers or someone's musky old basement."

Faith nodded without answering, but she also put her own hand in Cordelia's.

"And just remember," Cordelia said, "If we meet Angelus, we don't have to stake him. We just have to hit him hard enough to drive him off until we can decide how to handle this."

"I can do that," Faith said, and suddenly she straightened up and gave a lop-sided grin. "Spike taught me one or two really nasty tricks that I never had the nerve to try on him."

"Now's a good time to start using nasty tricks," Cordelia said. The girls headed for the door, and Xander realized he had to call Blair and they had to get moving before Angelus could make too many plans of his own. He only prayed that Angelus was too busy to spend too much time torturing Wesley.


	34. 34

"Hey, a little paint, some drywall and a wrecking ball, and we could make this place look like a big pile of garbage," Xander said, looking around the old theater. The roof leaked, which explained the funky smelling seats, and they had no electricity.

"Don't knock it. The back is dry and the sewer access is chained." Gunn almost managed to sound friendly. Almost. Of course he was glaring at Spike, so Xander wasn't surprised about the lack of love. Gunn and Alonna were big fans of the Faith and Graham Vampire Staking Show, but they weren't actually fans of vampires.

"And I really am not knocking it because it's better than nothing. It just needs a little help," Xander pointed out.

"If you want to fix it up, have at it, Whitebread. I got better things to do with my time."

"Charles!" Alonna stuck her head through the double doors from the lobby.

"Sorry!" Gunn held both hands up and backed away. "I'll try to be nicer to the vampire and his crew," Gunn promised in the most sarcastic voice Xander had ever heard.

"Okay, I'm guessing you're not a Spike fan, which I can understand, but just keep in mind that Spike and Angel actually pay the bills for Faith and Graham and all the fancy new equipment they've gotten for you," Xander said, gesturing toward Gunn's jacket. It was thin enough that it didn't do much to hide the flak jacket or the military knife.

"Angel... the guy who's gone all Darth Vader on your ass?"

Faith pushed past Alonna into the main theater. "Yeah, Angel. The guy who saved my sorry ass when I was so fucking lost that I killed someone. The guy who stuck by me when everyone else in my whole fucking life turned their back. The guy who forgave me when I all but pushed Xander down and raped him because I was so fucked up I didn't know the difference between someone liking me and someone wanting something out of me. If you have a problem with Angel, you have a fucking problem with me. Do we have a problem?" Faith demanded, stopping about two inches from Gunn's face. Xander held his breath and hoped the blood splatter didn't hit him, but right now it looked like someone was dying, and Xander was betting on Gunn. Gunn and Faith stared at each other, their faces oddly lit by the ray of sun shooting in from one broken window. Dust darted in and out of the beam so that it looked like they were in some sort of weird, shimmering halo.

Gunn backed off first with an odd twist of his body. "We're good. I just want it clear that I ain't opening a hotel for vamps."

"Five by five with me. You don't like vamps, I don't like assholes. So, you stay away from Spike and Angel and maybe I won't kill Joey."

Instead of getting angry at that taunt, Gunn laughed. "Yeah, that brother's got issues. I ain't telling him or Rondell about this deal, so you keep it on the down-low. My guys see your pet vamps, and I'm not—"

Gunn stopped with a gasp as Spike grabbed him and jerked him out of the light and into the shadow. Gunn was good—without panicking, he grabbed for his stake. However, Spike was better. He slapped Gunn's hand so hard that the crack echoed in the empty room and the stake rattled to the ground.

"Understand this, mate, I'm not anyone's pet anything. I've eviscerated more people than you've shaken hands with. Faith's family, so I'd do most anything for her, including not eviscerating you, but my patience has a limit."

"Play nice," Cordelia called from the stage. Xander had thought she went in back to figure out living quarters, but obviously she was vamp watching instead. "And Gunn, don't poke wild animals that can eat you. It's not smart."

"Very much unsmart," Xander agreed. Spike sort of tossed Gunn back, and he stumbled backwards down the aisle.

"So, is there running water because I can live without electricity, but I am very fond of my indoor plumbing," Xander quickly said before either of the guys could start fighting again. Faith stood there with her arms crossed and an expression that made it pretty clear that she was just daring Gunn to say anything else. It was Alonna who answered after she reached Gunn's side.

"The bathrooms work. Actually, they're public bathrooms, so you have two or three toilets for every person you have here. And you're welcome to stay for as long as you want."

Gunn gave his sister a blistering look, but he didn't contradict her.

Graham reached out and rested his hand on Gunn's shoulder. "One solder to another—thank you. I know Spike isn't exactly one of us, but he is an ally, and in war, you take the allies you find. We have the same goals, and Spike is powerful enough that unlike most of the minions you see on the streets, he doesn't feel any need to prove himself. That’s the safest sort of ally to have."

Gunn glanced over at Faith before turning his attention to Graham. "Whatever. I'm just saying I don't like vamps."

"Understood," Graham agreed. "I don't like the Iranians, but my general dislike for that group doesn't keep me from recognizing a good ally. I worked in the field with a man who I trusted with my life—a man born and raised in Ravar, Iran and who prayed several times a day to Allah. When I first started working with him, I wasn't comfortable with the situation, but I trusted Riley when Riley said he was a good man. Over time, I learned that Riley was right—that I could trust him."

"So, I just trust a vamp?"

Graham shook his head. "No, you never trust an ally unless you've seen evidence with your own eyes that he's trustworthy, but on the word of a trusted ally, you should give someone a chance. Otherwise, you're in danger of allowing your own prejudices to overtake common sense."

Spike just stood with his arms crossed, but from his stance, Xander could tell he was ready for a fight. He was probably hoping for a fight because the frustration level was getting a little high for all of them. Hell, Xander was about ready to pick a fight with someone.

"Hey, I have an idea," Xander said, "Let's go on patrol. There is way too much hostility in this room for anyone to stay inside without breaking walls, and as much as I appreciate all the practice with my drywall skills, I don't plan to stay here long enough to do any fixing up."

This time it was Gunn who answered with a snort. "Who'd notice if they broke a few walls in this dump?"

"Yeah, you've already put holes in most of them," Alonna teased him with a smile. Gunn smiled back at her, and for one second, the tough expression faded into something fond.

"Yeah, well do what you want with this place," Gunn said. "But I don't think I want to go on patrol with a vamp. I'll just wait and see whether he eats the rest of you, first." With that, Gunn backed away from them, up the aisle and toward the lobby. Xander figured the show was over because Cordelia vanished back behind the main curtain, and Faith started heading for the stage area. She probably wanted to check the security while Cordelia figured out how to set up quarters private enough that they weren't all sitting on top of each other.

"Spike looked Graham up and down. So, I'm not one of you?" Spike sucked air through his front teeth. Someone was in serious danger of getting sat on.

"You're family, but you aren't human," Graham offered. "And I am sorry about Gunn's attitude."

Spike just shrugged. "Boy shows some good sense. If he's going to go playing vamp hunter, it's good for him to distrust demons. Vamps use all sorts of bait, including playing Lestat when it serves their purpose. There are all sorts of idiots who believe the 'tortured soul' rot that some of them pull."

A flash of pain went through Xander. For Angel, it hadn't been a ploy. He'd suffered with his soul for a hundred years, and just when he was starting to learn how to live with himself, Jenny Giles had come along and ripped it away.

"Enough of this rot. I really am ready to kill something. Is anyone coming?" Spike looked at Graham, but it was Xander who answered.

"Count me in, I'm starting to actually understand why you and Faith tend to beat the crap out of things. Either my testosterone levels are rising or I have finally the point at which I can no longer process any more frustration. And considering I went to high school with Harmony, I have pretty high frustration tolerance levels."

"You never killed the Slayer when she complained about that endless string of losers she dated. I think that's proof enough, pet."

"Slightly pointlike," Xander agreed.

"I thought I felt something one street down, so let's see if we can't flush out something big and bad." Spike started heading for the door.

"You do know the girls are going to kill us for leaving them to set up the living quarters, right?" Xander checked as he followed Spike. Spike turned around and walked backwards so he could wiggle his eyebrows.

"Bloody hell, yes. I have to give my queen something to get brassed off about. I won't have her brooding like Peaches." Spike gave a leer that made it clear that not even tragedy would slow down his sex life. Xander was starting to really admire Cordelia's stamina.

"You two have fun killing things. I'm going to check to see that the toilets actually flush," Graham offered.

Xander stopped. "Maybe I should—"

"Get away and work off some frustration," Graham cut him off. "I may not be as good as you with a wrench, but I can get a toilet working. Probably. If not, you can fix whatever I break when you get back," Graham said. "So get out and go kill something for me." Turning around, Graham trotted toward the stage area where Cordelia and Faith had vanished.

"Come on, pet. Let's go see if we can't work off some frustration," Spike threw an arm around Xander's shoulder and practically pulling him toward the lobby. The sewer entrance was off the manager's office, which pretty much meant that some sort of demon had originally built the theater. Then again, based on the funky lack of logical planning, Xander figured out that big chunks of the city had been built by demons. Demon had the non-logical logic going. Spike unchained the entrance and dropped down into the tunnel, his coat billowing up over his head.

"But Graham..." Xander called down into the tunnel.

"Is a big boy. Let him deal with the plumbing for once," Spike called up. Xander sighed and climbed down onto the ladder. He wasn't going to win this fight even if he suddenly didn't want to kill anything. He wasn't sure he even could. If they couldn't find Jenny, they might end up doing the big showdown with Angelus, and Xander wasn't sure what he would do if he had a stake in his hand and Angelus right in front of him. Spike was waiting for him at the bottom of the ladder.

"Should we chain it up?" Xander asked, gesturing up.

"Let Faith have a little fun if anyone's stupid enough ta try and challenge her," Spike said before he reached out and caught Xander's hand in his own before leading Xander out of the small island of dull light filtering down from above and into the dark tunnel. The neighborhood had really run down because the sewers were almost not disgusting, which usually meant that the buildings above were either empty or full of non-working plumbing. They passed two junctions, and Spike still held Xander's hand as they passed into an area with a series of grates that allowed dim shafts of light from the late afternoon sun to filter in. The tires of the passing cars made an odd whining noise as they passed the grates.

Xander looked at Spike suspiciously. He didn't need the help finding his way with the extra light, but Spike was still holding his hand tightly. "You're worried about me."

"I don't bloody worry."

"Then why are you looking at me the way you looked at Faith after she came back from Washington?"

"I am not."

"Am too."

"Not."

"And now..." Xander poked Spike in the stomach. "You're trying to annoy me out of being totally wigged out."

"I don't even bloody understand what the hell that means. Have you considered learning English, you know, the Queen's English instead of that rot you talk?"

"Har har." Xander tried to smile, but his lips just wouldn't do it. If anything, he could feel anger and grief and fear pushing up into his head like air pushing into a balloon until it was ready to pop.

"We'll get this fixed," Spike said with a sudden seriousness that didn't match the teasing tone of just seconds earlier.

"And if we can't?" Xander hated asking. He wanted to pretend that everything would be okay, that good always won. But somehow when he'd lost that illusion about the time he'd figured out that 'human, good; demon, bad' didn't actually work. Some people, like his father, were worthless and lazy at heart. And others, like Jenny Giles, were just pretty much evil. Not Spike evil where he just wanted what he wanted, but the sort of evil that thinks it knows everything and that it can fuck with people's lives because it knows better than everyone else in the whole universe. Xander didn't like that kind of evil. And the sad thing was that he used to be that sure of himself. At one point, he was so sure he knew all the answers, and now he didn't know anything, and he couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen if they couldn't figure this out. His nightmares were full of images of Angel's face exploding into dust.

Spike didn't answer, but he reached out and rested his palm against Xander's cheek. "We'll get there, pet. Don't count Peaches out, yet."

Xander's eyes were hot, and his nose had that weird itchy feeling that meant he was in danger of snotting on someone. "I want him back," Xander confessed in a whisper.

"We both do, pet."

The sound of clapping hands sent Spike leaping forward with a snarl. Angelus walked around a bend in the sewer ahead of them. "That was just beautiful. Very touching. William, William, William. It doesn't matter how much I beat you, I just can't beat all those emotions out, can I?" He strolled forward, filling the tunnel not only with his size, but with his personality. Angelus was somehow just bigger than Angel. He filled the space and sucked the oxygen out of the room until Xander couldn't breathe.

Spike didn't answer, but his body shifted defensively as Angelus stalked closer. Xander suddenly realized that Spike couldn't easily retreat with him in the way, and the close quarters would favor Angelus in a fight. Backing away, Xander searched the walls of the tunnels for a ladder. He needed to get up and out before the fight started. That was about the only way he could help.

"Look at the little rabbit try and find a way out of his hole. Oh William, he doesn't even trust that you can protect him. It's a good thing I've come to collect him." Angelus stopped and raised a hand to rest it on the hilt of his sword.

"What's the matter? Can't find anyone else who will let you bugger them? I could give you a few lessons, mate."

Spike's words hit a nerve because Angelus' eyes flashed yellow. "Careful boy."

"That's the thing. I'm not your boy. Even before the witch stuck her fingers in your head and stirred, you'd figured that one out."

"I created you. You're whatever I tell you to be," Angelus now totally vamped out.

"Too late for that. You chose to leave me and Dru, so we just had to find our own way."

"I never left you," Angelus snarled. "But the gypsies' curse is gone." He sounded so damn pleased, and Xander somehow thought a happy Angelus was not a good thing, but if Angelus wanted mind games, Xander had grown up watching his parents verbally rip into each other into little tiny pieces before ripping into him. Then he'd graduating to watching Spike and Angel. They might not have meant their barbs, but Xander certainly knew how to throw a verbal punch.

"Why would a gypsy take your curse off?" Xander blurted before he could lose his nerve. He was so not the one to be playing mind games with Angelus, but there wasn't any other way he could help.

"Xand, get out," Spike ordered, but Xander ignored him and focused on Angelus.

"The gypsies still hate you. Jenny Giles hates you. She blames you... well you and me and Spike, but mostly you... for ruining her marriage. She thinks you set the United States military after her, and that was more Riley than anyone else, but that's not my point."

"I'm going to have to train you to keep your mouth shut, aren't I?" Angelus asked in a sadistic voice, but Xander recognized the flash of doubt in Angelus' face.

"Um, if you want me to be quiet, probably, because I say random shit when I'm scared out of my mind, but still that is not explaining why someone who hates you would go and make you all happy and set you free. That is sounding inexplicably illogical for someone who loves logic and computers and geeking out over programming code."

"Boy's got a point," Spike added. "That's what Green Bean came over to tell us, that someone had put a spell on the hotel but it was so helpful that it slipped right past the Furies' protective spell. You bloody well know you'd never let that Giles bint cast a spell on you, but that's exactly what she's done."

"I can deal with her later," Angelus said dismissively. "My concern right now is that I seem to have misplaced something that's mine."

Xander swallowed as Angelus looked past Spike and focused on him. If Xander just ignored everything that had happened in the last day or so, he could pretend that this was still Angel, that the expression was one of love and desire. Angelus wanted him. And a little part of Xander wanted Angelus because he was the only part of Angel that he could still touch, but that little part was quickly shoved in a corner by all the fear and terror that rose up like a wave.

"You're not taking him, mate," Spike warned. His voice was soft, but the warning was clear.

"Are you challenging me, boy?"

"I guess I am."

"I'm going to make you pay for that."

Spike laughed. All the hairs on Xander's arms stood up. "Um, Spike, let's not poke the Master Vampire, please."

"Yes, boy, listen to the human," Angelus agreed with a smile for Xander that made his heart twist in confusion. "If you aren't careful, you're going to pay as dearly as Penn."

"You can try, Peaches, but you seem to be forgetting something."

"Oh?"

"You were a vampire for what, a hundred, a hundred and fifty years? And then you turned into a pathetic shadow crawling through alleys eating rats and slowly starving and saving kitties and puppies."

"You will pay for that, boyo." The smile left Angelus' face as he glared at Spike. Xander could feel his heart pound so fast it was actually painful in his chest.

"Maybe not," Spike answered with a casual shrug. "Darla kept you under her thumb. You never were a Master Vampire around her. You were her toy, her bauble. She kept you around just so she could control some big, strong man the way she'd been controlled her whole fucking life."

Angelus had gone perfectly still, and Xander stopped breathing. This wasn't teasing. This wasn't some attempt to get an advantage while sparring. This was full out verbal nuclear holocaust.

"But Darla tossed me out on my ear when I wasn't more than thirty years turned. I've spent eighty years as a Master Vampire. I've controlled territories and taken three slayers."

"Weak ones," Angelus spit out.

"But slayers, mate. I took them and I could take another any time I wanted."

"She's mine. Touch her and I will pour holy water in yer eyes." Angelus had barely finished before he leaped forward with hands outstretched. Spike twisted, but in the close quarters, he couldn't totally escape. Angelus caught him by the arm and slammed him into the side of the sewer tunnel with the thud that Xander could almost feel through the concrete. Spike started slithering to the ground, but as he fell, his legs tangled with Angelus' and before Xander could recognize the danger, Spike pulled Angelus to the ground and had swung his arm around and sunk a stake deep into the back of Angelus' shoulder.

Angelus roared and leaped up, but Spike was already on his feet, crouched and ready for another round. For a half second, Xander thought they were going to throw themselves at each other, but then Angelus chuckled. It was the sort of sound Angel never made. "You might have learned a trick or two, but you can never beat me."

Spike took a step back and stretched his neck as if they'd only been sparring and not trying to rip each other's limbs off. "We'll see."

"William, William, William." Angelus shook his head sadly. "You never understood strategy. You should have killed Wesley because he has proven quite helpful. For example, he tells me that you don't want to bring in the Sunnydale forces. You want to find a way to fix this. You don't want to kill me, and that means you will never beat me. So, it's time for you to come home, boy."

"I never liked doing things the easy way." Spike backed up another step so that he was so close Xander could reach out and touch him.

"Touch him and I'll cut off the offending limb," Angelus snarled, his yellow gaze focused on Xander again. "He's mine."

"He was Angel's," Spike disagreed.

"No, he was mine." Angelus lowered his head and smiled right at Xander. "You gave me more freedom under the soul. The soul never would have touched you, so you brought me out, a m'fhear. You convinced Angel to revel in his pleasure instead of torturing himself like some sort of buffoon. You wanted my hands on your body, feeling your heat. In the end, your touch freed me from the soul, not the witch's spell. Think back to our last time in bed. That wasn't the soul. The soul never held you down and made you cry out his name as you begged for release."

Xander swallowed, every thought stolen out of his head.

Angelus chuckled. "Oh yes, you know the truth, my boy." He turned to Spike. "If you want to play Master Vampire, be my guest, William. Give me the boy and the slayer, and you can do whatever you want with that human you've allowed to chain you up like a pet."

"No deal."

"Then you'll lose everything. I can't decide if I should torture that bitch of yours or just turn her and teach her how to properly serve a master."

Spike snarled viciously, and Xander reached out to rest his fingers against Spike's shoulder. At first, it didn't seem to be working, but then Spike shook his head with a slow chuckle that echoed Angelus' own. "Good try, but I'm not going to lose control. If you want Xander and Faith, you'll have to bloody well fight for them."

"Then I will, William. I can come after you any time I want."

"How did you do that?" Xander blurted out before it occurred to him that Angelus was probably not going to answer him.

Angelus chuckled. "See how you're mine, a m'fhear? You look to me for answers. You ache to have my hands on your skin. Come home to me now and the punishment for leaving will be much less severe."

Spike snorted. "Not like I gave him a choice. Took him and Wesley in hand and forced them out of there."

"And then you gave Wesley back. Maybe you're trying to make sure I win and force you back into your place under me. Do you miss my cock, boy?" Angelus asked. "Why else would you send a magic user back to me knowing that I had all the life force I needed to track the boy?"

"You have my life force?" Xander asked, wondering if this was some Star Wars reference he totally didn't understand.

"Semen, pet," Spike clarified. Xander flinched because Angelus really did have that. They'd had lots and lots of sex, and somewhere in the middle of all the sex, Xander had gotten lazy on changing the sheets. Unless he could smell it or Angel ripped the sheets, he just figured why bother.

"So, I can track you easily. Come with me, and you'll make it much easier for Spike to hide the others. Go with him, and I'll track you straight back to the lair. I'll torture Cordelia until she begs for death, and you can live with knowing you could have stopped it." The smile on Angelus' face was nothing like Angel, and if Xander had a chance to kill Angelus right then, he might have done it. He knew what Angelus was capable of, and the thought of him touching Cordelia made his skin crawl.

"That argument might actually work on him," Spike said, "only, it's not his choice." Spike threw something, and a bright flare filled the tunnel with light and heat so vivid that for a second, Xander thought the top of the tunnel had blown off and sunlight was streaming down. He opened his mouth to cry out for Angel and Spike, but then strong hands caught him by the arms, and before he could even blink the bright spots out of his eyes, someone was hurrying him through the tunnels while swearing in a thick Cockney accent. Xander thought it was pretty sad that he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that Spike was the one to claim him.


	35. 35

"If he can track me, this is feeling a little pointless," Xander said, watching as Spike knelt down beside a car and picked the lock.

"Just try to call Cordelia again," Spike muttered around the lock pick sticking out of his mouth. Xander sighed. Vampires. You couldn't explain anything to them without them thinking you were trying to tell them what to do. Xander pulled out his cell phone and tried Cordelia's number again. They'd all agreed to keep the cell phones powered down at the lair, so he didn't give himself good odds of getting through. Yeah, Angel was an idiot with technology, but none of them were willing to bet their security on Angelus overlooking the ability to track them. Of course, that had been before they knew Angelus had an old-fashioned tracking spell.

"What?" Cordelia snapped through the phone.

"Cordy?"

He was answered by a sigh. "Xander," she said in that tone of voice that meant she was trying really hard to not yell at him. Oddly, his mother had that same tone of voice. "Unless you are about to be eaten by something big and hairy, you need to get back here and confiscate all the plumbing tools. We do not hand you powerful explosives and send you out into the world, and you should not hand Graham a tool and expect him to do anything other than hit things with it. Clear?"

Xander blinked as he considered the damage Graham could have done. "Um, totally," he agreed. "Did he find the shut-off valve?"

"Eventually." From the way Cordelia said the word, it hadn't been fast enough.

"Are there any working toilets left?" If there weren't, they could add lair shopping to the list. Actually, they'd probably need to do that anyway because Xander knew where the lair was, and he was not betting on his ability to not share that information with Angelus once he was captured. Nope. Xander was an idiot, but he wasn't a big, huge idiot, and Spike wouldn't expect him to be. The minute Angelus thought to ask where the lair was, Xander was going to sing like a song bird... like a record player... like Wesley. Hell, Xander didn't even mind that Wesley was doing the magic thing because if he didn't do the magic thing, they'd find pieces of him all down 7th street and Xander's stomach could not take that.

"Yes, we still have toilets, but we also have a very large mess that you helped make by letting Graham touch tools."

"We kinda have a mess, too."

"What is it?" All the frustration vanished from her voice.

"Angelus has a tracking spell on me. Spike had some magical light doo-dad, but we're doing the running for our lives bit."

There was a long silence on the other end, and Xander could just picture her expression.

"What's the plan?" she asked.

"Other than not coming back to the lair? I'm kinda clueless. Spike has gone all non-talkative."

Spike opened the door on the fancy car he'd decided to steal. "I was trying to work, pet. Here, hand it over." Spike held out his hand, and Xander surrendered the phone. The less he knew the better.

"We're heading over to Wolfram and Hart," Spike said. Well, there went the whole plan to keep him out of the loop. Xander rolled his eyes. "Be ready to move if you don't hear from us in an hour." Spike looked over the top of the gray car. "If Angelus catches us, can you hold on an hour?" Spike asked.

"If it meant giving them time to run, absolutely," Xander agreed. Spike nodded in approval.

"We'll check in every hour. We miss by more than five minutes, you move, and you move somewhere that Xander and I don't know, so don't go back to Gunn."

Spike listened for a long time, his expression growing softer with each passing moment.

"No worries, luv. He's tried to kill me more than once, and he hasn't exactly done a bang-up job. We're going to see if we can get this tracking spell off, and then we'll be back, safe as houses. Keep an eye on the slayer because she's the other one the big lug is talking about reclaiming."

Spike listened to the phone and gestured for Xander to get into the stolen car. With another eyeroll, Xander pulled down his sleeve over his hand before he opened the passenger side door. Considering his luck, the police would find his fingerprints and arrest him. Then again, arrested would probably be a lot safer than unarrested right now.

"No," Spike told Cordelia as he got in and used his knee to crack the casing around the steering wheel. "He threatened ta torture me if I killed Faith, and he's still calling Xander his husband, so I'm figurin' he wants to reclaim them more than kill them. Mind you, that means Graham is in a world of hurt. Faith loves him, so Angelus will use that to keep her at his side. Right now, I don't know if he'd chain Graham up in the basement and torture him whenever Faith brasses him off or if he'd turn Graham and make him a loyal minion or childe who would keep an eye on Faith. I don't think we want to find out, either."

With practiced ease, Spike hotwired the car while still holding the phone up with his shoulder and listening.

"Just be safe," Spike finally said before he pulled the phone down and hit the end button. He tossed the phone back to Xander and pulled out into traffic. "If Angelus touches one hair on her head, I'm going to turn him into a pile of dust." From the tone, Spike wasn't kidding, either.

"Will he?"

"Will he what?"

"Hurt her."

Spike didn't answer right away, and Xander supposed that was an answer—not one he liked, but an answer. "He'll most likely turn her," Spike finally answered. "Some demons, like vampires, go straight for the violence. But there are plenty of demons who consider verbal intimidation an art form, and she's a bloody genius at it. She's got a reputation in the demon community, so he'll probably want to keep that."

"But she won't be your Cordelia," Xander said softly. Spike already had one lover pick Angelus over him and a vamped Cordelia would want her sire. Xander didn't even want to think about how much that would hurt.

"We won't ever find out because Peaches isn't getting anywhere near her." Spike vamped out and glared at the traffic murderously. If Angelus wanted to play mind games on them, Xander figured he was actually doing a pretty good job.

"Oh hey, what do you mean he called me husband?"

Spike glanced over. "He keeps calling you m'fhear."

"Which means man, but in a fond way... right?" Xander frowned as it dawned on him that Angel wasn't always one for the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"Yeah, I suppose it does, but if I called you 'my man,' I think it's slightly more than fondness, pet. The same word means husband."

Xander stared at Spike and tried to figure out how he felt about that. Angel calling him husband, but being too Angelish to tell him it meant husband was actually sweet in a neurotic kind of way. Angelus calling his husband.... Xander thought about their last time together, the way he'd moved with more confidence, his hands on Xander's waist holding him down.

"He loves me," Xander said slowly.

Spike answered with a half shrug. "I don't know if the bastard can love anyone except himself, luv. He loves how you look at him—he loves the way you want him. He's right, you know. Even down there, you looked to him for answers. If he'd caught you first, would you have even been sorry?"

Xander stared at the passing traffic and chewed on his lip. He didn't know the answer to that question, but it wasn't making him happy to even think about it.

"Yeah, thought so. As long as you're that loyal, he's going to value you. I don't think he's had that kind of devotion much in his life. I know he never had it in his unlife. The sorry bastard really doesn't have a lot of people who would choose him over a pint of fucking ale."

"You would," Xander said. Spike didn't answer as he stared out the front window. Hell, last time Angelus had come out, Spike had come running when he'd called. But now... now he had to choose between protecting Cordelia and being with the only part of his vampire clan that still wanted him, and Xander didn't doubt for a second that Angelus wanted him.

"We're quite the pair," Spike finally said.

"Yep," Xander agreed. "Fucked and Fuckeder."

Spike gave a snort of laughter as he took a turn. "That we are. But it doesn't mean the bastard has us beat yet. We get this tracking spell off you, and then we find the witch before Angelus can rip her throat out. I find people don't generally provide many answers after their vocal cords have been ripped out of their necks."

"Small problem. Actually, a couple of small problems, but the first would be that we've been looking for Jenny and we haven't found her yet. Even Willow is coming up with a big zero."

Spike's snort made it pretty clear that he didn't trust Willow's answers, but Xander did.

"Hey, after her close encounter of the legal kind, she is not going to side with Jenny Giles on anything. She got fingerprinted. They took her mug shot and put her in a military holding cell until Giles could come up with bail and gave her a military defense lawyer and made her go into court and everything. Do you have any idea how totally freaked she was? No way is she going to keep any more secrets. She's scared so straight she's afraid to bend over and tie her shoes."

"Don't bloody care," Spike answered. "Besides, we don't need the witch. Angel's been so concerned about playing by the rules that he hasn't used all his resources."

"Resources as in ripping out of throats?" Xander guessed.

"Threats of, anyway. Wolfram and Hart has offered to help track her, but Angel is trying to live by some moral code he doesn't even fucking understand. He wouldn't even talk about taking help from that lot."

"Not hanging out with bad guys and taking evil favors really isn't a bad moral rule," Xander pointed out. He then grabbed for the dash as Spike raced a truck for an open parking space. The owner of the truck laid on his horn for a long second and then promptly peeled out, his tires spinning against the pavement and sending smoke up into the air, so Xander was guessing Spike had vamped out on the guy. In LA, road rage had a whole new meaning.

Spike stopped the car and turned to really look at Xander. "For you, maybe. I'm a demon, pet. I lost my soul a long time ago, and if it takes evil to get what I want, I don't have a problem with that. I've fought over at Wolfram and Hart's fight club, Twenty-One, a half dozen times, and I've taken out a half dozen of their best slaves. I got some good violence and a share of the take. They got to make arse loads of money advertising that they had a Master Vampire fighting in their ring. As long as everyone got something they wanted, it worked out."

"But—"

"No arguments. You don't get a vote in this, and that means you don't carry the blame and you don't get to whinge."

"Pointing out the truth does not whining make... or even whinging."

"Your truth, pet. And with the soul, it might have even been Angel's truth. But the rules have changed, and I'm not going to play by Angel's rules. If he doesn't like that, he can get his pansy-arsed soul back into his body and tell me himself." Spike opened the door and Xander had the feeling that the debate was over. Vampires. He got out and looked up at the tall building.

"This is such a bad idea," Xander said softly, but no one had asked him for his vote. Spike strode toward the front door in all his vampy glory—coat billowing after him. Feeling like the ugly stepsister, Xander followed. "Such a very bad idea," he muttered as he followed into the lobby of Wolfram and Hart's big old office building.

"Welcome to Wolfram and Hart, attorneys at law. How can I direct you?" A woman with a perky smile asked. For some reason, her smile made Xander shiver, and he briefly wondered if it was rude asking someone their species.

"Lilah Morgan, please," Spike asked in a voice way more polite than Xander normally heard from him.

"Spike!" A woman called out his name with affection as she came out of an elevator. She looked like corporate Barbie with her tailored suit and smile, and Xander's backbone wasn't just shivering—it was doing the mambo. "A little birdie told me you were coming."

"The little birdie tell you anything else, luv?" Spike asked as he took her hands and gave her a peck on the cheek the way French people did in the movies Angel liked—the ones you had to read.

"Oh, all sorts of things. I hear you have a small problem."

"A small one," Spike agreed.

"We specialize in solutions. I'm sure we can work out a deal." Lilah pulled back and gave Xander a quick glance before focusing on Spike. "So, are you looking for information or perhaps just someone's head in a nicely gift-wrapped box."

"If I wanted someone's head in a box, I'd put it there myself," Spike said firmly. "I just need to know where I can find the person whose head I'm about to remove."

"So, the only question is who you plan to target."

"The only question is how much you plan ta charge," Spike corrected her.

She laughed. "Have I mentioned how much I enjoy doing business with someone so practical?" Lilah smiled at them and stepped aside with a gesture toward the elevator. "So many of our clients are all 'should we' this and 'what if' that. They just do not appreciate the services we offer." Lilah made the doubting clients sound unreasonable, but Xander was starting to think doubting these people was the smart thing. And while normally he was totally willing to trust Spike's ability to protect him, this was feeling so very not smart. He glanced over at the doors that led out onto the street and then at Spike. Spike cocked an eyebrow at him, but he kept on talking to Lilah.

"I always appreciate your services, pet." Spike gave Lilah a leer that would have sent most women running for a sexual harassment lawyer. This woman just leered right back. It was kinda creepy.

"Any time you need servicing, you know I'm here." Lilah actually wiggled her ass at Spike before heading for the elevator. "Does your human need anything?" she asked as she got on and kept the doors from sliding shut with her hand.

"Eyes off, luv," Spike warned, but Lilah's eyes hadn't actually been on Xander for more than a quick glance, and she didn't even twitch when Spike went all yellow-eyed glare. "I brought him here because someone put a tracking spell on him, and I need it taken off."

"Well, that's disappointing. And here I thought you were going to bring me something challenging."

"Might be that I need some information on a cyber-witch. Let's talk about the price for getting the tracking spell off my human, first."

"Fair enough." Lilah gave Spike another smile as the doors started to slide shut and then the whole world flashed brilliant white. Xander stumbled back, his eyes burned by the brightness, like when he'd been a kid and Willow told him not to look at the sun so he had looked just to prove she was wrong when she'd said it would burn his eyes out. He'd seen spots for a week, but right now, seeing spots would be an improvement over the absolute whiteness that filled his vision. Xander couldn't even see Spike.

Blinking against the light, Xander looked around at a room full of a whole lot of nothing. "Okay, this is unsurprisingly unfun. Gee, who would've expected evil tricks in an evil law firm?"

"Ah, if it isn't Mr. Harris. So nice to meet you. I'm Holland Manners." An older man with thinning hair and a creepy smile walked out of the whiteness and offered his hand. Xander just stared at him. While many people had pointed out that he was sometimes not the smartest, even he knew that shaking hands with evil was not high on the smart scale.

"Yes, well, so much for manners." The man pulled his hand back, but he didn't seem upset. Behind him, a chair appeared out of nowhere, and a little girl sat kicking her feet and flipping through a comic book. "I actually wanted to offer our services."

"Evil services?" Xander so did not like where this was going.

"Well, I prefer to think of us as practical rather than evil. Some people just don't appreciate that there is a certainly reality that we all have to deal with. We are simply more realistic about choosing our battles."

"So, you choose battles you can win," Xander summarized.

Holland stopped and really looked at Xander, looked at him like he was one of the stoner kids who sits in the back row and he'd just said something particularly stoned. "Do you choose battles you think you're going to lose?"

Xander thought about that. He'd confronted Angel about being a pedophile back when he'd thought Angel was a killer who would shove him down the nearest storm drain. He'd screamed out a warning to the couple in the park during Angelus' first appearance, and he'd been fairly sure that was going to end badly. He'd tried to stake Spike the first time he'd seen him on the street, and Spike had basically grabbed him by the back of the neck like a naughty puppy and shaken him until his teeth rattled. "Um, actually, yeah. You'd think I'd be dead by now what with all the fighting of losing battles, but obviously I'm tougher than I look."

"I like you," the little girl piped up. "I liked you better when you turned out a vampire."

Xander's backbone was doing the salsa thing again. "I don't think I ever turned out a vampire. And isn't it a little past your bedtime?"

"You turned out a vampire once, but that didn't end right. This should be my sunset."

"Yes," Holland interrupted, "there is a certain protocol when it comes to ending the world."

"We're ending the world?" Xander looked at them in horror. He definitely hadn't gotten that memo.

"We're not ending the world. They're trying to do it all wrong." The little girl crossed her arms and put on a pout that would have made Harmony jealous.

"They are?"

Holland stepped forward and raised a hand like he was going to put it around Xander's shoulder, and then he stopped. "It's all wheels within wheels, isn't it? Well, suffice it to say that we here at Wolfram and Hart are very aware of your problem and willing to take steps to help you solve your problem."

"You want to bring Angel back?" Xander frowned because he definitely wanted Angel back, but unlike Spike, he wasn't so sure that going through an evil law firm was ever a good idea. Ever. Not ever in the history of the whole universe.

"Well, that is still under debate among the Senior Partners. However, I am authorized to help you find Jenny Calendar-Giles." Holland gave Xander a conspiratorial smile.

"And the price?" Xander had no intention of paying any price. He'd read enough stories with evil geniis and backfiring wishes to know that this was going to end so very badly for him. So, he just had to stall and spend a whole lot of time praying that Spike found him.

"No price." Holland backed off and leaned against the chair the little girl was sitting in. "We don't happen to like some of her choices, and if we give you the information, there's a good chance that one of you will kill her. That would fit nicely into our plans."

"You do know that by saying that, I'm really a lot less likely to go along with killing her, right?" Xander looked at the two of them. Why was evil so confusing... and normal looking?

"Unless we're using reverse psychology," the little girl sing-songed and then she giggled.

"We have no ulterior motives here." Holland held up a hand in a placating gesture. "Prophesy is just starting to slide out of our control a little too fast. The entire prognostication department is in an uproar. Two psychics have had their heads literally explode from the force of the visions. And Angel and Spike are in the center of all those visions. We're just trying to clear the field of a few pawns so it's easier to see how all the pieces are laid out on the board."

"And Jenny is a pawn? And why do I suddenly feel very pawnlike myself? And hey, if you try to take me off the board, you do know that Spike is going to be big with the unhappy, right? I mean, your lawyer will be dead before she can say 'wait a minute.'"

"Ms. Morgan knows the danger. After all, she was there when Spike beheaded both purveyors of the demon fighting club on the grounds that they looked at him wrong. I don't think she would be surprised at finding herself dead. That said, we have no intention of removing you. Your death would distract both vampires from the action at hand."

"Ending the world," Xander guessed. Shit. Yep, Angelus was definitely up to his old tricks. Xander's chest tightened in pain as he considered having to stake Angelus, but if he was doing world-ending badness, there were not a whole lot of choices. Angelus had to die. There were some drugs that would make Angelus happy as a clam if he drank Xander's blood. While Xander had always been on the "Just Say No" bandwagon, if it gave Faith and Spike better odds, maybe he should get some of those and let Angelus catch him. Hey, he could get stoned and see if it was as good as Oz always made it look. Xander's eyes burned as he thought about having to live with knowing he'd helped kill the man he loved. He was really considering turning Angelus to dust, and with him, killing the last bits of Angel and the last hope of getting Angel back.

Suddenly the little girl was right there in front of him, and Xander jerked back in shock and fear.

"It should be my choice—I am the ending—I am the omega. I am the face of Ra that watches the world end, but every door, he is there. I should live until I see the sun blink out and the world returned to the darkness that birthed it." Her face shimmered, and pulses of light escaped as if they were slipping past the cells of her body.

"Um, okay?"

Holland stepped forward. "You see, we aren't that interested in timelines. When you work for beings that exist eternally, whether Armageddon is five years or five millennia in the future doesn't really matter much."

"In that case, can I vote for five millennia?"

Oddly, the little girl smiled at him. Holland chuckled. "I admit, I had hoped to pay off my mortgage before any world-ending events. Which brings us back to the point of our little visit. You see, I am the head of Special Projects here at Wolfram and Hart." While Holland was talking, the little girl who clearly wasn't a girl and probably wasn't all that little wandered back over to her chair and threw herself in it. Yep, all the body language screamed annoyed five year old.

"Xander?" Holland called, and Xander focused on the man again. Now Holland looked a little annoyed. He sighed and obviously started over with his little spiel. "My division has been tracking Angel because it is clear that he is a player in the end days, but it's not yet clear which side he's on."

"Um, that might have to do with his whole missing soul," Xander admitted. He figured guys this organized had probably figured that one out already.

"You would think so." Holland's mouth twisted into a grimace. "However, since he lost his soul, the psychics have been dropping like flies, and it's hard to tell which side is ahead at this point. We also have to consider the fact that the Powers that Be helped Mrs. Calendar-Giles with the removal of the soul.

Xander nearly swallowed his tongue. Shit. Shit and more shit. Blair insisted that the Powers were eudaemon who wanted to do the right thing, but if they thought yanking out Angel's soul was good, Xander was putting them on the evil list. That or the stupid list. Stupid was a very real possibility.

Holland kept on going. "Now, I am willing to put my resources and research material up against theirs any day of the week, but it's out of character for them to act directly without some sort of information."

"So, you think his soul coming out was of the good, and that I should help put his soul back in because that would be evil? I'm guessing your research material is not that good or you'd know that sales pitch really sucked. I'm not a fan of evil. Not even when evil would feel good." And Xander had to admit that a little part of him was actually okay with evil if it meant getting Angel back. He knew that part was wrong and on the verge of buying a one-way ticket to hell, but it was still there—whispering.

Holland gave him another of those 'isn't he just the dumbest thing you've ever seen' expressions. "Your masochism is well documented. The office even had quite a betting pool about whether you were ever going to land in Angel's bed or not, so your self-denial is actually quite well known."

"Okay, ewww."

"Especially considering I lost three hundred dollars," Holland said in a voice that made it sound like he was agreeing with Xander, which meant he had obviously been missing the point. Xander was starting to think he was not the only person in the room who had once ridden the short bus to school. "However, the point is that removing the soul may have been good or evil. Restoring it may be good or evil. We don't know. However, we do know that Jenny Giles should not be around to influence current events. Someone changed the flow of time, and a woman who should have died years ago, suddenly survived her fate. Powers have appeared and vanished and reappeared. Entire political careers have risen and others fallen, and all of it is moving against prophesy. Time is shifting. That should not happen." Holland actually looked bothered now, and the little girl was staring at Xander with this intense expression that made him wonder if she wasn't part vampire or something. Spike had that same stare.

"So, you want me to..." Xander let his words trail off because he wasn't sure what they wanted.

Holland gave him a fake-friendly smile. "We are simply providing some information on how to contact the Powers That Be and where a certain cyberwiccan has been seen purchasing supplies. What you do with it is entirely up to you. I can assure you that we are only attempting to..." he waved his hand, "clear the fog so that we can get a better understanding of the forces at work. There is no charge for this information." He raised his hand, and Xander could see a small piece of paper in it. Holland held it out, and Xander twitched. He wanted it. He wanted it badly, but the more he wanted it, the more he really thought he needed to look the gift horse in the mouth. Yeah, everyone said you shouldn't, but if you didn't poke around in the horse's mouth, you ended up with a tired old, worn out nag that ate you out of oats and never pulled a wagon. And sometimes the nag was really a demon wearing a horse skin and it would eat you the minute you turned your back. Yep, some gifts just cost too much to keep.

"Not interested," Xander said, backing up. Holland actually looked surprised. The girl, however, looked downright murderous. Children of the corn murderous, even. She stood up and walked toward him with a loose-gaited motion that didn't look remotely human.

"I am the sunset. I end the light and bring the darkness. Do you dare contradict me?"

"Um, no?" Xander guessed. And really, she was looking like someone you never, ever wanted to contradict. She stopped and blinked at him, and suddenly the child was back, her little-girl smile looking more like a young Harmony than a demonic ender of worlds.

"I will end the world. Sooner or later—that's my job," she announced in a smug voice before she went back to her chair. Holland looked at her, and Xander wondered if maybe someone shouldn't suggest therapy for this whole building. These lawyers had issues. And maybe Spike without his soul was okay hanging with them, but all of them were giving Xander the wiggins so bad he was about to break out in hives.

"I'll escort you back down. But if you ever need our assistance, please know that you are welcome to call on us any time. Honestly, our goals are not mutually exclusive," Holland stepped forward and clapped Xander on the shoulder, and suddenly Xander was in an elevator going down.

"So... I can just go?"

"Of course. You are the consort of a favored client's sire. It's in our best interest to keep our client and you satisfied in any way possible. I'll call Lilah and let her know you will be waiting for Master Spike at the front desk. I'm sure Lilah has finished the incantation to remove the tracking spell. It was a very simple piece of magic, but I have to say, Mr. Windam-Price has some natural talent. You tell your master that if he ever wants to transfer the man's ownership, Wolfram and Hart will pay a fair price."

The elevator doors opened, and Xander found himself looking at the exactly same lobby he'd just left with Spike. The receptionist looked over and smiled at him, and lawyers strolled in and out of the main doors.

"Master Spike will be with you directly," Holland said, and with a little push, he helped Xander out of the elevator and the doors slid shut.


	36. 36

"It's about time you got your asses back," Faith greeted them when they climbed up out of the sewer.

"It's nice to see you too," Xander answered her as he followed Spike out. "So, guard duty?"

Faith shrugged. "It's better than sitting around thinking of how everything is fucked up," she answered, but before Xander could answer, another voice was calling out.

"Xander!" Blair called with such obvious relief that Xander got the feeling everyone had been more than a little worried about them. That was okay, though, because Xander had been worried about himself. And not just from Angelus.

"About bloody time you got here," Spike snapped at Blair before he walked right past him into the dressing main room of the theater.

Blair made a funny face and looked at Xander like he expected some sort of explanation. Oh, Xander had one, he just didn't want to get into it. He'd already been called stupid in many creative ways... about any way that Spike could call him stupid without saying stupid, Spike had said.

"Nice to see you, too, Spike," Blair told the closed doors Spike had just disappeared behind. "Someone pissed in his blood."

"If he'd had time to get any," Xander said. Yeah, he was feeling not happy with Spike, but he also didn't think the vamp needed to get one of Blair's lectures. More importantly, Xander didn't think Blair deserved to get sat on and his head shaved just because Spike was being cranky. Blair's hair had reached the shaggy stage, so either he was trying to grow it out, or he'd been traveling somewhere exotic enough that they didn't have scissors.

"Angelus again?" Blair asked, the sarcasm vanishing. Faith turned around and headed for the front doors to the theater, hitting one with a fist hard enough to make the chained entrance rattle.

Xander shrugged. "Kinda. He didn't catch up with us, but..."

"It's not easy," Blair finished for him. "Oh man, I feel for you. No way do I understand, because I have never had a relationship like you guys. Nowhere near as close. But man... this sucks."

"Sucks hairy monkey balls." Xander clenched his teeth to keep from saying more. A little voice in the back of his head called him an idiot for turning down the information because now, face with the fact that they didn't have any leads, Xander was thinking that evil help might not be all bad. Mostly bad, sure. He sighed.

"Hey, it'll work out," Blair said softly. He was looking at Xander like Xander was on the verge of breaking.

"Or we'll stake him," Xander said with more than a little bitterness. He followed Spike's lead and headed for the main theater. The clan was going to use the backstage area, so Xander trotted down the aisle toward the back.

"Xander," Blair called, but he kept right on going. The stairs up to the stage were low, and Xander went to take two at a time.

"Xander!"

The stairs wobbled under his feet, and Xander windmilled his arms trying to catch his balance. A hand grabbed at his back and gave him a good push so that he stumbled forward to the main stage.

"The stairs need fixing," Blair explained when Xander turned around to look at him. "That's what I was trying to tell you."

Xander could feel the blood climb into his face. Yep, he was officially an idiot.

"Hey, whoa, no biggie. Geez, they're only stairs," Blair said as he climbed them much more carefully than Xander had. "Man, you've had the worst day ever, haven't you?"

Taking a deep breath, Xander could only nod.

"Yeah," Blair said softly. "Wesley posted to a website Cordelia knew about. He's okay... relatively... and Angelus doesn't seem to be making any big moves to set the town on fire."

That should have been good news, but instead Xander could feel the emotion press up from deep inside. He wanted to cry, but if he started he just wasn't going to be able to stop. Not now. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to grab ahold of his emotions before he totally fell apart.

He hated this. He hated that he didn't have Angel to hide behind when Spike got all growly and he hated that Spike was growly and he hated that they'd had to leave Wesley and he hated that Faith was hurting so much and he really fucking hated himself for still wanting Angelus so damn much. They both called him husband.

Xander pressed his hands against his eyes until they hurt, and he could see spots. Angel and Angelus had both learned to be vampires from Liam. Both had taken his fears and his desires and had molded that into a seriously neurotic vamp with way more vanity than you'd expect in someone who didn't have a reflection. The hair was the same, the insecurity was the same, and the desire in his eyes when he looked at Xander was the same.

Xander's air left him, and he struggled to get a stuttering breath into his starved lungs. Blair rested a hand on Xander's shoulder, and Xander shied away from the touch and hurried toward the backstage.

The curtain smelled of mold as he pushed through, and the backstage area had been set up with props from some picnic scene, complete with a red checked table cloth. Cordelia was standing with her arms around Spike, his face buried in her neck, and the pain rose like a wave that left him wanted to fly at them, to hit them until they hurt as much as he did.

"Xander," Blair said, his voice so full of sympathy and love that Xander just wanted to punch him, which wasn't exactly logical, but Xander didn't want to be logical. Graham looked up, and for a second, Graham just stared at him.

"Xander!" Graham finally called out. "I'm glad you're back. It's time for you to take the tongue lashing from Cordelia. I've met drill sergeants with more of the milk of human kindness in them."

Xander frowned and looked over at Cordelia. She didn't look particularly upset—no more than anyone else.

"Next time I offer to do any work with tools, feel free to tell me I'm an idiot," Graham kept right on going. "I think Cordelia plans to give you the lecture about supervising subordinates when they're doing their work."

"Subordinates?"

"After turning the main bathroom into a swimming pool, I am more than happy to admit that I am clearly unqualified with water pipes."

It finally dawned on Xander that Graham was talking about yesterday's plumbing disaster, which, compared to all their other disasters, didn't feel all that disastrous. "Bad?" he asked.

"I wouldn't open the door marked "Gentleman" if I were you. The drains handled most of the water, but some pretty scary things came up them before the water went back down." Graham made a face that made it pretty clear that the disgust levels were too high for a covert ops trained soldier to handle, so Xander made a mental note to just avoid the whole mess. "And Blair here ducked out of his classes, and managed to show up just in time to push a mop."

"The highlight of my week," Blair said. He shook his head. "Actually, compared to the shit Dr. Reynolds gave me, cleaning unidentified organic schmutz was a joy. Man, some people. He acted like I was trying to kill his cat or something. Emergencies happen." Blair headed over to the picnic table and sat on one of the benches.

"I hope he wasn't too put out. I remember my college days, and I do not remember them fondly."

Blair shrugged. "The worst he can do is make me take the semester over." Blair frowned. "Well, he could make me redo a year of work on the practicum, but seriously, dude, believe me when I tell you that your class is not the center of my life. Only, he didn't." He rolled his eyes again, and it finally dawned on Xander that Blair was in deep shit for leaving the university. Yep, they were all in one big pile of shit together. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse than being in a pile by himself.

"I think my tech school will be a little more understanding," Xander said. It occurred to him that he should call or something, but he wasn't sure what he was going to say. 'Hey, my lover went psychotic, so I think I may need to miss class until I can decide just how homicidal my husband is.' Yeah, that wouldn't go over well. Xander could feel his chest tighten.

"So, where were you two?" Graham asked.

Xander shook his head and tried to focus on the conversation. "Um... we were staying with big scary looking demons that were a cross between a tank and a deformed human. And can I just say, I'm glad they don't get around much, because if they did, the human race would pretty much be hamburger."

"What kind of demon?" Graham asked.

"Does it really matter what kind of demon? Tell me that you got the tracking spell off and that you have some sort of plan because if I have to stay here much longer, someone is going to be joining me in the land of being in a really bad mood," Cordelia warned, stepping away from Spike's side. For a second, Spike just stood there very obviously breathing. Then he stretched his neck in that so-familiar gesture that meant he wanted to pound something... or that he had just pounded something or that he was thinking about pounding something.

"Erv demons," Spike said, "and the boy bollocked up the best chance for finding the witch. There are some rumors that she's thrown in with the Powers that Be."

Cordelia frowned. "Be what?"

"Be sticking their nose in my fucking business," Spike answered. Walking over, he dropped down on the bench. He looked ready to pass out, but then he was up all night doing the hourly check-ins with the lair. While Xander thought he'd be able to stay up and help with that, he'd ended up passed out next to something that was either a sex toy or the world's biggest slingshot, and Xander was not even going to ask which.

"To make a short story, shorter," Xander offered as he walked over to sit across from Spike where the chances of getting sat on were minimized. "Evil people offered information to find Jenny. I told evil people that I didn't like to get involved with evil, and then we left Wolfram and Hart. Spike apparently made some fight club let go of some baby something, so the big somethings took us in for the night, and I am so exhausted that I just want someone to shoot me and put me out of my misery. And Spike is even more tired, so don't poke the cranky vampire."

"Did that actually make any sense to anyone?" Blair asked, but at least he gave Xander a sympathetic look.

"Not really." Grabbing the coffee pot from the hot plate balanced on the microwave balanced on a small refrigerator, Graham poured two cups. Xander amused himself by imagining the electrical fire the small tower of appliances could cause if they were all plugged into an ungrounded outlet, and he was guessing they were.

Graham pushed one of the steaming cups in front of him. "I worship you, you know this, right?" Xander asked as he curled his fingers around the cup.

"You say that to all the guys who bring you coffee." Graham straddled the bench and sat next to Xander so that Xander was sandwiched between him and Blair. Yep, hopefully he'd get a little backup on the avoiding-evil part of the story because if Xander had to tell how he turned down the information again, he needed a little protection from Spike's tongue. Of course, Spike probably could have tortured him into taking the information from Holland, so it was nice that he hadn't, but Xander really wasn't fond of verbal beatings any more than he was physical ones.

"The somethings would be Erv demons," Spike said. He reached over and stole Graham's coffee. "A while back, I found out that a fight club had captured a forty year old Erv and were trying to make it fight in the ring. I ripped the owner's guts out and suggested that someone set it free."

Blair gasped. "Oh man. That is seriously fucked up."

Graham frowned at Blair. "Why?"

"Would you kill a kid?" Blair demanded.

"What? Of course not!" Graham physically pulled back in horror.

Blair just nodded. "I didn't think so. Erv are huge demons... they live for like thousands of years. But they don't mature into their full form until they're two or three hundred. Forty... that's like not even hitting adolescence, yet."

Putting down Graham's coffee, Spike arched his back. "Young ones look like a garden-variety demon—something human-sized and scaly, but the fight promoters had captured Malish just so they could claim to have an Erv in the ring. They wanted me to fight him. Wankers. I'll fight a full-grown Erv before I'll kill some ankle-biter."

Xander frowned as he remembered the story about Spike and Drusilla and a very unlucky orphanage. "But didn't you..."

"I wasn't fighting them," Spike cut him off and glared. "They were prezzies for Dru, and that's a different thing. I don't fight children to prove I have knackers big enough to earn a little respect. That's closer to Angelus' game."

The room fell silent as that name fell like a bomb into the middle of them. Xander stared at his cup, tracing a finger around the circle formed by the rim. Cordelia was the first to move. She sat down next to Spike, and his arm went around her waist. "And now that someone brought up Angelus, maybe you two can stay on topic and tell us what happened at Wolfram and Hart."

"Ask the boy," Spike said, turning a not-happy expression toward Xander.

Xander cringed, half waiting for the English insults to start again, but Spike just glared at him.

Graham put a hand on Xander's arm. "Xander?"

"I couldn't take the information from Holland. He's evil. And evil is not usually trustworthy." Spike opened his mouth, but Xander plowed ahead. "And even if it's trustworthy, you don't really know what evil really wants because, hello, evil. I vote no to evil."

"Okay, now I know I missed something," Blair said with a frown. "Who's evil?"

"Bloody hell, just tell from the time you disappeared from the elevator. I'm too bloody tired ta make any more editorial comments," Spike said with a sigh. Bringing his cup up, he drained the coffee before heading for the small kitchen area. While he pulled a packet of blood out, Xander told them about the white room and the girl and Holland Manners and his information. As far as Xander was concerned, it was a win because now they had the rumor about the Powers that Be, but Spike still growled the second Xander mentioned the slip of paper in Holland's hand.

Xander finished, and looked around the room. If he'd expected anyone to jump to his defense, he was disappointed to see that most everyone had on expressions that suggested they just weren't sure what to think. Well, except Spike who was clenching his teeth and clearly trying to not say something unnice. Something else unnice. He'd already been plenty of unnice, but Xander was thinking he was a little justified since the lack of a soul meant that he really didn't even understand Xander's dilemma. In his head, it was like someone just offered him a million dollars free and clear, and Xander had decided to turn it down. Yeah, not really smart, except Xander was still thinking it was the smartest choice he could make. He wished now he hadn't made it, but it was the right choice.

"When you're considering intel, the source is as important at the actual information. Can we even trust their word that the Powers that Be are involved?" Graham finally asked in the awkward silence that followed the end of Xander's story.

"Oh man. It totally sounds like them," Blair hurried to answer. Maybe he could see that Spike was about to lose his battle to not snark. "They are the biggest busy-bodies in the demonic world, and considering that my cousin Whistler and my father totally drank the Kool-Aid, I think I can say that with a pretty high degree of certainty."

"Your dad's one of the Powers that Be?" Xander asked.

Blair almost choked to death on his coffee. "No way. Those are old ones. Some of the demons who were forced out of this dimension, but they've kept their fingers in the pot. Some of the oldest human myths talk about eudaemon or Æsir or ancient gods, and those are pretty much all names for the Powers that Be. I happen to think they're big interfering pains in the ass, but my father will be more than happy to tell you how they guide human history and prepare for the coming battle against the forces of darkness."

Graham took a second to really study Blair, like he was trying to understand the man, but then they really hadn't had much time to actually get to know each other. Graham was sort of post-Blair. "No offense to your father, Blair, but when people start talking about preparing for battles against evil, they're generally blowing smoke up someone's ass."

"No fucking kidding," Blair agreed. "And go ahead and offend my father all you want. I actually tell people that I don't know who my father is, which is oddly okay with my mom. The bastard seduced Naomi because some Powers that Be oracle told him that I had some destiny. Does he stick around for the birth? Does he help my very orthodox Jewish mother through an unplanned pregnancy? Does he even show up when the rabbi figures out she slept with a demon?"

"I'm guessing no," Graham answered.

"I should have warned you to avoid father issues, huh?" Xander asked Graham. He was actually grateful they were off on someone else's issues because he couldn't deal with dealing with his own right now.

"Yeah," Graham agreed. "You need to have my back, Xander. I count on you to keep my foot out of my mouth."

Spike's snort was the closest he'd come to unnice since Xander started his story, and Xander smiled at him. It was nice to have family that tried so hard to not emotionally damage you, even when they were really, really pissed.

"Maybe we can talk about the Powers that Be and whether or not they need slaying," Cordelia suggested, and that set Blair off on another round of trying to choke to death on his coffee. "Problem?" Cordelia asked with the sort of tone that could freeze water.

"No, but if you're going to try to slay the Powers, you're going to need a portal. They aren't even in this dimension. I only know of one of the old ones that...." Blair stopped mid-sentence, his head cocked to the side like he was listening to something. Spike searched the room with a yellow-eyed gaze, and Graham stood up, his hand on his gun. Oh yeah, they were all jumpy.

"Xander," Blair said slowly, "what did the little girl say about the end of the world?"

"Um... that she was the sunset and the bringer of dark in the light. It was pretty much standard 'I am bad guy' dialogue. Seriously, she watches too much late night television."

"Unless she's telling the truth. Oh man. Oh fucking hell. No way." Blair slapped his hand down on the table and got a huge, stupid grin on his face. Before Xander could even ask, Spike was there leaning over the table and getting right in Blair's face.

"Out with it unless you want me to start pulling out organs," he threatened. Normally, Spike wasn't big on the threatening family, but everyone's temper was a little frayed. Xander just hoped that Spike didn't actually pull an organ or two out. Oh, he'd go for the useless ones like the appendix, but he was looking pretty organ-ripping frustrated.

"Hey, no problem. I'm just... I'm thinking that if I'm right... whoa. Man, we have entered uncharted territory."

"Already there, mate." Spike's face folded and crunched until the vampire ridges appeared.

"No fucking kidding," Blair agreed, not looking worried at all. "Okay, the Papyrus of Ani the Scribe, which people always call the Book of the Dead, describes the battle between Osiris and Set. Osiris had started helping humans, and most demons who worship the eudaemon count him as one of the earliest of the Powers that Be. But Set was like, seriously traditional. As far as he was concerned humans were bugs in need of a good stepping on. So Set and Osiris have this big war over whether to kill all humans or help them."

"And Osiris won," Xander offered, hoping to hurry the story along. He loved Blair, but he did not love history the way Blair did. And Spike was looking even less in love with the history lesson.

"Not even." Blair gave a dark laugh. "Osiris got his butt kicked. He got chopped into pieces, several times, until Set finally managed to make him stay dead."

"So, they killed all the humans in Egypt?" Either Xander had slept through that part of history class or he was missing something.

Graham leaned forward. "If you try telling me this was one of the plagues, I'm going to think you're making this shit up."

"No. No way. Oh man, we are talking thousands of years before the Jews ever found Egypt. But here's the interesting part."

"Just make it the relevant part, mate," Spike suggested. Blair waved a hand at him. If he wasn't careful, he was so about to get sat on.

"It's all relevant. You see, the Papyrus of Ani, the version of the story written by the human scribe, says that Osiris became lord of the underworld and created a place of safety for human souls where the dark one couldn't feast on them."

"He got people a 'get out of hell free' card?" Xander translated.

"Kinda. Yeah. But, the demon world has an entirely different version. The Papyrus of Heket, one of the minor goddesses, says that the people so loved Osiris for fighting for them that they invited him into their afterlife. According to that legend, demons can actually escape the cycle of being shuffled from one dimension to another by finding grace with a higher power who has opened a path only for humans."

"I never heard that, and I've been a bloody demon for longer than you've been alive," Spike said. Xander looked from one to the other, not sure who to believe. Blair would never lie to them, but that didn't mean that Blair knew the whole truth, either.

"If you think the Jews got persecuted, oh man, they have nothing on the cult of Heket. Demons are...." Blair grimaced and shook his head like he was trying to get something particularly horrifying out of his mind. "Let's just say that demons who believe the Papyrus of Heket have short lives and brutal deaths if anyone finds out. Demons are so not into religious tolerance."

"I can't believe demons are into religion at all," Graham said softly. He actually looked a little disturbed by the thought.

"Religion is part of culture. It permeates the language, the thinking, the way demons see the world. Religion is everywhere." Blair threw his hands out.

"I don't soddin' care," Spike cut him off. "I'm still not seeing where this makes any difference. I'm tired and I'm getting more brassed off by the second."

"Geez. You seriously need to drink some happy blood or something," Blair said without actually sounding all that intimidated. Spike growled. "Ra had stayed pretty neutral through all of this, but according to Heket, when he saw that people were capable of pulling a demon into a dimension of eternal bliss, he decided to protect people and give his descendants time to make that journey themselves. He wanted to make sure that the world could never end. I mean, he was one of the old ones. The old, old ones. So, killing him would create such a big bang that... poof... no more world." Blair popped up out of his seat and started pacing. "So, this is the part that a lot of demons actually do believe, because the whole part with demons following human souls into heaven... so not orthodox thinking. Anyway, Ra split his powers and his being. His power remained untouchable in the sun, but his being he divided into five separate parts and gave each part to an avatar."

"Bloody fucking hell. I do not like where this is going." Spike stood up and caught Blair by the arm, forcing him to stop. "Tell me you are not saying what I think you're bloody saying."

"The fifth avatar is named Mesektet. In human mythology, that's the name of the boat that he carried the sun to the horizon before it vanished. In demon history, she's the avatar that carries Ra's power of ending. She's the sunset. She's a child—the symbol of rebirth, which requires death. She's the literal end of the world. Oh man. Xander, I think you met part of Ra. Oh man." Blair kind of fell back down onto the bench like his legs wouldn't hold him anymore.

"And is this bad?" Cordelia asked.

Blair twisted around and looked at her. "Xander just met the most powerful evil being still in existence in this dimension."

"That's bad," Graham agreed. "Maybe I'm missing something, but why would a creature that powerful want to offer to help Xander? No offense, Xander," Graham added with an apologetic look.

"Hey, I’m a little too freaked to take offense at anything right now, so offend away," Xander offered. Okay, if that little girl was ultimate evil, Xander could understand why he was creeped out, but he was kinda wondering the same thing Graham was.

No one answered that, and Xander noticed that everyone had turned to look at Blair. Blair held both hands up in surrender. "No idea. I'm just really hoping I'm wrong on this. Of course, it makes sense that an evil demonic law firm would ally themselves with Mesektet. And it makes sense that Mesektet would not appreciate the Powers that Be trying to interfere with her plans."

"You just don't know where we fit," Xander guessed.

"Not a clue," Blair agreed. "Honestly, I'm really hoping I don't fit at all. I mean, the oracle told my father that his child born with Naomi would have a great destiny, and I am so hoping that doesn't include getting sacrificed to an old one to stop some Armageddon. Trust me, that would not make me a happy camper. Oh, my father would be thrilled, but I'd still be dead."

"No one's getting sacrificed," Spike growled.

"We need to call Riley," Graham blurted out. Spike didn't even bother answering.

"Who can we go to? Who would know the players?" Spike demanded.

"Ma'at. She's the avatar of sunrise and the embodiment of truth."

"Right then, we go to Ma'at. Do you know anything about her home dimension?" Spike asked. He actually looked happy to have something to actually do.

Blair looked up at Spike. "She teaches classes in modern shamanism at California State University, Los Angeles. My uncle knows her."


	37. 37

Students hurried across the concrete and brick mall. At one point, Willow thought he should be going to a place like this, but standing on campus, all Xander could think was that he totally didn't belong here. All these people were wandering around without having any idea that their neat little world view was only totally wrong. They cared about grades. They gathered on the grass, in the shade of the trees, and shared a laptop and giggled about things that Xander probably wouldn't understand. Willow was probably doing the same thing right now back in Sunnydale.

For Xander, that just wasn't a life he wanted. Even Blair had admitted that college people could get tunnel vision—like not noticing that your professor is a goddess who carries a part of one of the most powerful demons in history. If Xander ever got that blind, he hoped someone poked him really hard.

"Dr. Mayet?" Blair asked. Xander watched a thin woman with a mane of pure white hair turn around at his call.

Dr. Mayet turned around. "Yes?" She smiled, and all the wrinkles gathered around her eyes.

For a second, Blair just stared at her with awe, and Xander had the feeling Spike was right under them in the sewers growling. If Spike had his way, they would have waited until dark to do this, but Xander had sided with Blair on that one. No way did he want to meet a goddess when Spike was in a mood to threaten someone. There was stupid and then there were levels of stupid that not even Xander was willing to descent into.

Graham stepped forward. "Dr. Mayet, it's nice to meet you. We were hoping you could give us a little help." He held his hand out, and she stepped forward to take it, smiling warmly at Blair who still looked a little stunned. Even though she must have been pushing sixty, she was beautiful, and as a nineteen year old boy, Xander did not normally go for the soon-to-get-Social-Security age bracket. Or maybe he did because Angel was way older than sixty, but he didn't look it.

"Are you taking my class?" she asked, looking at them with a smile that made Xander want to tell her everything.

"You know my uncle Sal'ic'natiti," Blair finally managed to say, but he was clearly more than a little star-struck. Her reaction was immediate. Her back stiffened, and suddenly she looked less friendly and more like the kind of old lady that would give you a concussion if you tried to steal her purse.

"We need some honest advice and help," Graham quickly added.

"Totally. Man, we are in way over our heads, and we need someone we can trust to point us in the right direction before the universe takes a big dump on our head."

Mayet didn't answer, but her expression did turn a little confused.

"As the person, most likely to get dumped on, I second Blair's vote for us needing help," Xander added. "But maybe we shouldn't be having this conversation here."

"Totally." Blair nodded, his shaggy hair bobbing enthusiastically. "Man, Uncle Sal would kill me if he knew I used his real name in public. Seriously kill me."

For a second, Xander through they were about to get turned down, but then she gave them all a little worried frown and sighed. "Maybe we should go to my office," she offered. Before Xander could open his mouth to agree with that, a white light flashed in his eyes, and he found himself standing in the middle of a whole lot of white nothing.

"Okay, this is creepily familiar." Xander edged closer to Graham. Yep, it made him a wuss, but he'd been through this version of freaky already, and he did not want to see it in reruns. Blair was looking around with wonder, but Mayet frowned at Xander.

"This is familiar?"

"Kinda totally," Xander agreed. "Only you're missing the creepy little girl and the used car salesman lawyer."

Mayet's eyebrows rose so high they nearly vanished into her hair.

"Okay," Blair took a deep breath like he was trying to do one of those meditations he liked, but Xander didn't really think they had time for that. "We're not entirely sure, and we're really hoping we're wrong. Or I'm wrong, because this is my theory, but I think Mesektet contacted Xander."

"Why?" Mayet asked. Her features seemed to be glowing now, and Xander wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

Xander shrugged. "She offered to help me find a witch who ripped the soul out of a friend of mine. And really, while soul ripping is never good, getting help from the creepy godlike is feeling even worse. And I'm just now remembering that Mesektet is like your sister or something, so please don't kill me for saying that."

For a second, Mayet just looked at him, and then she slowly got an expression Xander usually saw on Giles. "She is not my sister. We both chose to carry a part of Re for our own reasons, but I feel no allegiance to her. Not beyond wanting her alive in order to protect the piece of Re she carries. And who ripped a soul out of a being? A human soul?

She looked at Xander with such intensity that Xander found himself unable to even form words. He tried to, and the thoughts slipped out of his head like water out of a cracked cup. Blair answered after a second, although he was giving Xander such an odd look that Xander thought he should probably check to make sure his fly wasn't open. He just couldn't seem to get his hands to work, either.

"Our friend Angel had a human soul, but he's a vampire. We think a witch pulled his soul out using a happiness spell because the soul was glued on with a gypsy curse, and she was one of a very small number of people who knew that happiness could make it come unglued. So not cool. But anyway, Mesektet told Xander that the Powers that Be were helping her. Mesektet offered to help Xander find the witch. Now, we want to have a little talk with the witch because pulling people's souls out is like... whoa... seriously bad karma."

Mayet smiled and Xander shook his head as a shiver went through his body. Graham reached over and caught Xander's shoulder and pulled him close, so Xander suspected he was not the only one having issues. Graham wasn't the touchy-feely type, but he was sure touching now.

"And Mesektet offered to help?" Mayet's chuckle was not even a little bit nice. For the first time, she really looked like an old and powerful goddess. "She is more desperate than I had thought. Did you take her help?"

Xander could only shake his head, words still slipping away before they could form.

"For one, I am so not sorry that he turned her down," Blair defended Xander. If that really was Mesektet..."

"It was. Your friend still carries the stain of her touch."

"Eww." The sound slipped out of Xander without him even meaning to say anything. He suddenly wanted to shower... a lot. But the thought of showers just made him think of Angel surprising him in the shower, large hands sliding over his warm skin, the steam rising around them like a mist as Angel kissed the back of Xander's neck before taking the soap out of Xander's hand. Angel had washed him, and that was not a thought he wanted to have... not when they were faced with Angelus. Xander blinked, shocked at his own inability to control his thoughts.

"That's a good way to put it." Mayet's face scrunched up in disgust and suddenly she just looked any other Tom, Dick, or goddess who'd just stepped into a big pile of gross.

"We're looking for some reliable intel," Graham said, his fingers tightened into the soft of Xander's arm. "If these Powers that Be have decided to attack us, we need to know why and where they are."

"And which dimension to hide in," Blair added softly. "Oh man, this is so not the destiny I would have wanted for myself."

Mayet looked at Blair and the last traces of disgust vanished as she smiled at him. "You have no destiny, young one. Had you chosen to follow your demonic path or even chosen to define your life by denying your demonic path, you would have been caught in this battle. However, you've defined your life by your human goals and human beliefs. Unlike so many others, you are free to choose to not get involved."

"And leave them, no way!" Blair looked downright angry, but maybe he realized who he was getting pissy with because the next second he took a step backwards and held his hands up in surrender. "No offense."

She laughed. "No offense is taken, and I am not saying you have to leave them to stay out of this fight. I am saying that demons are drawn back to their own dimensions like..." she waved her hand for a moment, clearly struggling to put her ideas into English, but that was okay because Xander was struggling just to keep up. Actually, he'd been feeling like that pretty much since Blair had shown up, and Xander was starting to think he should have studied demonology instead of drywall.

"Demons are drawn to their dimension like a magnet. And most of them will try to recreate their home here on this world."

"Wait... what? All demons?" Xander frowned. That didn't sound good.

"It's the nature of demons." Mayet agree softly with a small shrug that made her white hair tumble down over a shoulder. "They can no more prevent themselves from trying to change the world than a salmon can prevent itself from going back to the river of its birth to spawn."

Xander thought about Spike, about the way that he just wanted to be loved, and he was fairly sure Mayet was totally full of crap... either that or she was just lying to them. After all, Spike had mailed them that hand of the demon that wanted to send the world to hell, all in order to save the world, and that was not sounding like a creature who was drawn toward hell. Spike was more drawn toward punk music than hell, and Angel had stopped the big world swallowing statue guy. Maybe Xander had a weird expression or she thought he was about to call her on the crap or something because she held a hand up to stop Xander from saying anything.

She gave him a smile, the type you give someone right before you tell them that their dog is dead. "Even Angel. As long as he defines himself as a demon or by trying to escape his demonic nature, then his demon will instinctively act in ways to recreate his home dimension. If he were to try and gift someone with life, then the life would turn out to be one of such twisted power that it opened a door for evil. If he tried to find love, then the love would turn dark and malignant." Her voice was soft... apologetic even, and somehow that made it worse because Xander was pretty sure she wasn't lying to him on purpose.

Xander's breath left him and little black spots danced in front of his eyes as he considered that it had been his love that had freed Angelus. Oh, Jenny helped with her all-purpose happiness, but he was the one who had stood in that room and given Angelus his love. He had brought out the monster that the watchers had written entire books about—him and his favorite ways to torture.

"Not cool," Blair said. "That is so not cool. Angel busts his ass to do the right thing."

"And does it turn out right?" Mayet answered. Blair looked at Graham and Xander, but neither of them were answering. Xander couldn't, because he was suddenly a whole lot less sure that he understood anything. He knew that Angel's love for Buffy had been huge on the creepy scale. And Angel's whole quest to be perfect... so incredibly stupid. And what if their love was just one more way that Angel was all off on the wrong track? Xander's chest physically ached at the very thought. He loved Angel. But what if his love was getting all twisted and was wrong? Xander really wished he could just sit down, but he clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the growing pain and fear.

"So, does that mean you want to do that? Do you want to rip this world apart and make it look like yours?" Blair demanded, and Xander was fairly sure using a voice that smug with a goddess would get you slapped, but Mayet had lots of patience. Way more than Xander's teachers usually showed.

Mayet laughed. "Yes, I do. But my home dimension is a place of calm and tranquility. I fear that it is so calm that you would probably find it intolerable. I admit that I do want that for this world, and part of the reason I teach is to try and help humans find that calm, that peacefulness that mimics my own existence. However, I try to avoid forcing that on anyone. Others have less restraint in that area."

"Like the Powers that Be," Graham said shortly.

"Perhaps." Mayet frowned. "They aren't normally this involved."

"Were the lawyers lying then?" Graham had hated the idea of the Powers being involved, but now he looked like he hated the idea of them not being involved even more. Xander was quickly reaching a point where he didn't care. Finding a nice hole to stick his head in and just hide was sounding good. Actually, for the first time in his life, he understood why his father drank himself stupid. Maybe he had more of his father in him than he wanted to admit because there was a little part of him that just did not want to deal. He wanted to hide somewhere and let Spike fix this. If Mayet was right, then it didn't matter what they did, Angel was doomed to always have his life twist around into something dark, and their love would twist right along with it. A little part of Xander wondered if it wouldn't have been better if Angel had kept on crushing on Buffy. After all, she was the chosen one with all the goodly powers of goodness, and maybe if Angel had loved her, he could have escaped the whole evil trip down Angelus' memory lane.

"I doubt it. The truth is so much more pernicious in the right hands." Mayet looked around at them. "Normally I could be so much more helpful, but the fact is that I have no more answers than they do. Something has shifted destinies until prophesy turns back on itself."

"Someone is undoing the future?" Graham tried to translate.

"No." She looked at him kindly and lifted a hand to him, but Graham stepped backwards, pulling Xander back with him. "No, destiny will eventually happen, but the form and those involved and the time is always in doubt. So many destinies were becoming clear. Fewer and fewer humans were involved in the grand battle, and the champions on both sides were increasingly demonic. With only demonic fighters, one could almost read of the coming battles in the stars." She swept a hand upwards as though she could see stars, but Xander only saw white.

"Humans are involved," Blair said. "Humans are getting too involved, and it's making it harder for anyone to make accurate predictions. Whistler always said he hated it when champions had too much of humanity in them."

"Humans have no destiny—they only have choice." Mayet agreed. "And if you wish to learn what the Powers would want. Ask them."

The whiteness of the room distracted Xander... either that or his brain was getting too stuffed full of weirdness to work right. Because it took him a second to realize that they were in a different kind of whiteness. A shadow seemed to zoom toward them like a cartoon.

"Shit," Graham cursed and shoved Xander back, but Dr. Mayet and Blair were so very, very gone. The gray streak stopped and Xander realized it was an arch and a wall... a medieval type wall with big stones and a lancet arch with a scalloped edge. Very medieval. The arch led into a tunnel, and the whiteness at the end was blinding.

"Um... Graham?"

"Yeah, Mayet pulled a fast one. I hope Spike eats her," Graham answered. He had his gun out, but Xander was pretty sure that a gun was not going to be much use. Not totally sure, but pretty sure.

"If she doesn't run really fast, he will. Unless she has some freaky power and she eats him first," Xander said unhappily. It suddenly occurred to him that she could probably just make him go popping off into some dimension of extra special bright sunlight and dustiness.

"Spike's a survivor. Hopefully she won't stir her fingers through his brain the way she did through yours. That might push him to do something rash."

"She... what?" Xander looked at Graham.

Graham shook his head. "Buddy, she stuck her fingers so far down in your head you were about ready to drool on yourself."

"I was?" Xander got a shiver down his spine.

"Yeah. In training, we had to go under drugs to try and assess our vulnerability and build up a resistance to chemical interrogation. You looked exactly like the guys in the chair. You just seem to be recovering quicker."

"Okay, can I just say that it really is unfair how demons get all the freaky power?" Xander scratched his head and tried really hard to wash away the image of Mayet's fingers sorting through his brain. He hoped she got cooties from him.

"Sounds like they think it's unfair that we get to throw a wrench into all their nicely made plans."

Xander had an answer all ready, but he snapped his mouth closed as Graham raised his gun and targeted two individuals walking toward them out of the arch. Demons. Yep, they were definitely demons—of the shiny variety. They were goldish with blue tattoos all over, and they used way too much hair gel. Xander thought Angel was one to overdo the hair gel, but the male had the worst case of helmet head Xander had ever seen.

"Your weapon is useless," the man said.

"Useless," the woman echoed. "You come seeking answers."

"Look lady," Graham said without lowering his gun. "No offense, but I'm not sure I would trust any answers I got from you anyway. What do you say you just open a door back to the reality I know, and we call this a day?"

"Without your answers?" she asked.

"They are without manners," the male complained. "Let them leave in ignorance."

For a second, the woman looked at them, and Xander held his breath, hoping that they were about to just get kicked out. He'd never wanted to get kicked out so much in his life.

"Wait," a new voice called. Xander looked over his shoulder. Oh shit. Jenny Giles.


	38. 38

"What have you brought us?" The woman asked Jenny, her eyes lighting up. Jenny stepped forward and held up a carved box.

"It's eighteen century, whale ivory and ebony."

"It's small." The man frowned, but the woman cocked her head and the box vanished from Jenny's hand only to reappear in hers.

"It is acceptable," she said. Xander exchanged a seriously weirded out look with Graham. If these people were trying to pretend to not be demons, the look was all wrong, and the whole greedy need for tribute was kinda working against them. From Graham's expression, he was thinking the same thing. Anyone who thought these guys were the emissaries for God god... so not firing on all cylinders.

Jenny turned to them. "Xander, Graham." She spoke their names as if she was happy to see them, but Graham raised his weapon and pointed it right at her.

"I don't know if this will kill them, but it will kill you. So either you encourage your friends to put us back in our own dimension, or I'll kill you, lady."

Jenny stumbled back a step. "Graham. You wouldn't."

"Try me." Graham did not even sound like he was kidding. Oh, Xander had said he would happily kill Jenny, but he didn't think he'd meant it. Graham was sounding very much like he meant it. "You attacked us, first."

"No, I didn't." Jenny brought her hands up toward her face in a gesture of shock, at least that's what Xander assumed.

"Do it," Graham said darkly. "One gesture, one half spoken incantation, and I'll put a bullet through your brain. If you want to live, you will tell me what you did to Angel and how, exactly, to undo it."

"Violence is not permitted," the male demon announced grandly.

"Such animals," the female agreed, and then Graham's gun was simply gone out of his hand.

"Fuck," Graham swore. He reached back toward his belt where he had his knife, but he didn't actually pull it. Xander made sure to keep his hands away from his cinquedea. Angel had given that to him, and he did not want to lose it to the Bobbsey twins.

"Graham, you have to understand," Jenny took a step forward. She looked a lot more confident now that she didn't have a gun pointed at her. "I want to put this right. I want to make Angel whole again."

Xander frowned. "Maybe I missed a memo, but I was almost positive that you did the happy spell that made the soul come off. You were one of the only people who knew about the happy clause... except Whistler... which means the Powers knew." Xander neatly ignored his own part in helping the soul fall off. He'd deal with that guilt later. Right now he turned to glare at the Bobbsey twins. Yeah, getting pissy with demons was never smart, but Xander didn't feel smart. He felt like he wanted to hurt someone else as much as he was hurting. He wondered if the boy twin's boy parts were in a predictable place, because there wasn't a demon Xander knew who liked getting kicked in the reproductive organs.

A hand caught Xander, and he looked over his shoulder to see Graham pulling him back.

"Violence is not allowed here."

"They are too ignorant to understand."

"They can learn."

The Bobbsey twins had a moment of staring at each other, and Xander wanted to wipe the smug looks off their faces so much that his teeth ached with the need.

"Xander, I'm so sorry you were caught in the middle of this," Jenny said, and if Xander had a gun, he really might have shot her. "You don't understand the big picture."

"And you do?" Graham demanded.

"No, but the Powers do. They know how much suffering is caused by the chaos and violence."

"And they want to make it all better?" Graham's voice was sharp with sarcasm.

"Oh hey, would their idea of better be everyone dead?" Xander blurted out. "I get the feeling they're okay with everyone dead. A world of dead people would be pretty calm, and after all, you seem to be saying that the Powers wanted Angelus out so he could help make for lots and lots of death. Not that he's working really hard on the killing thing." Xander stopped, not sure what point he was trying to make because Angelus hadn't gone on any big massacres, which was a little surprising with his history. And even worse, Jenny had a look on her face like she felt so bad for him not being able to understand the way the world really worked—like she was so much better. "So, Giles must love having a wife who totally betrayed him," Xander said with a nasty smile. The look of pain on her face felt good.

"Such ignorance."

"Primitive brains. They are little more than beasts," boy Bobbsey twin agreed. "Enough."

"Oh not even close," Xander muttered, but he could poke fun of Jenny and her patheticness when demons weren't watching.

"Believe me, I would not have done this if there had been any other way. I sacrificed my marriage because I believed this was the right thing to do. Angel was on a path that was taking him farther and farther away from his destiny."

"Destiny?" Xander asked. "You did it on purpose, which yeah, I knew that, but you did it on purpose because of some plan, didn't you? I swear, I'm going to tell Spike to eat you."

Jenny actually laughed. "The entire government is searching for me, my family has disowned me, and my husband refuses to speak to me. Do you really think one more threat will bother me? But listen to what I am saying: there is a prophecy that a vampire with a soul can regain his mortality. Angel can be human again; he can finally be free of the demon that is destroying him."

"What?"

"The Scrolls of Aberjian contain the Shanshu prophecy—it says that a vampire with a soul will complete the deeds that will make him mortal again. Angel can claim that prophecy." Jenny looked so damn sincere that Xander couldn't even come up with an answer for that. Angel was the demon. The human Liam had died centuries ago, but would he want to be human again?

"What deeds?" Graham asked, focusing on the details when Xander's brain was still spinning out of control.

"The Powers that Be are fighting the forces of evil that are gathering."

"Those guys?" Xander asked looking at the Bobbsey Twins because unless they had some seriously freaky powers hidden away, Xander was fairly sure they'd go down in the first wave of minions. As Powers went, they weren't impressive.

"We are the oracle," the twins answered in identical disdain.

"Let me get this straight," Graham said, "You want Angel to perform certain deeds in return for being human again?"

"It's a chance to regain his humanity." Jenny was practically pleading with Graham to believe her.

"How many deeds? How long is he supposed to serve them? What's their endgame?" Graham asked. Jenny just frowned in confusion without answering. "What are their short-term and long-term goals? Exit strategy? Targets?"

"It isn't important," Jenny said firmly.

"Lady, it definitely is. So, how is taking his soul off supposed to make him want to work for you? Angelus is not interested in being human and he is not going to take orders from these two." Graham crossed his arms and gave Jenny a dirty look worthy of Spike.

"None of you understand. The soul is there to make him suffer, not to let him create some new clan." Now she looked angry.

"Okay, maybe I'm not understanding the logic there," Xander said, "but your family lost someone, so they make this big curse. Only, the second Angel is happy, the soul comes off and then Angelus can kill lots and lots more people. I was there when Angelus came out the first time, half-starved and frustrated and ready to eat the world, and if you're trying to save the world from a monster, that is like the worst plan ever. That plan is pretty much punishing the world, or at least whatever part of the world is near the vampire all cranky with being locked up for a century. And now... now that you've stolen his soul, now you want us to help you hire Angel? Okay, the whole happiness clause is now sounding like the second worst plan ever because that is the worst plan. Angel's not going to work for you."

"Angel is going to understand the danger if he allows his demon to exist. He will want the prophecy." Jenny spoke, but it was the Bobbsey twins who stepped forward. The fog that had been swirling around their feet thickened, and Xander watched a ghostly version of Angelus form from the mist. He was smiling creepily, and blood was splattered on one side of his face. He reached up and collected it with a finger, which he then licked clean.

"So, what sort of information did the Watchers hope to learn?" Angelus was circling, his face amused as he looked at something below him. As he turned away, something else formed in the fog. A man was laying on a table, his hands tied to the corners with ropes so tight that his fingers had swollen to sausages. It looked like bits of masking tape dangled from his back, and Xander gagged as he realized Angelus was slowly skinning strips of skin from the man's body.

The color drained into the paining and now the man was a canvas of red and deathly white. "If you don't tell me, I will just torture you into madness and then turn you." Angelus leaned down next to the man's face and got an expression of mock sympathy. "I'll even be a good master and send you home after you've told me everything. It's wonderful being a vampire—no ridiculous rules to follow. So, who do you think you'll go after first? A child who kept you awake all night? A wife who doesn't understand you?" Angelus reached over and grabbed a trailing strip of skin and tugged.

Two things happened at once: the man screamed and Xander vomited.

"You turned him loose. You took the soul out, so if someone is supposed to feel guilty here, I think you should examine yourself." Graham moved forward with an expression like he was going to strangle Jenny with his bare hands.

"That has always been loose out there. That has been right under the soul the entire time. Angel had a soul when he came to Rupert's apartment and threatened him. Angel had a soul when he allowed Spike to kill Kendra. That was always there. You people just refuse to see it." Jenny screamed, pointing at the shifting mist where Angelus was just starting to drift apart into streaks of red and black. "You're blind, but the Powers have given him a chance to finally purge himself of that evil."

"By enslaving him?" Xander asked. He wiped his mouth, and a trail of slime clung to his skin. He brushed it off on his shirt. "You want to put the soul back in so he'll remember that, and then you're going to tell him that his way out is some prophecy that says he has to obey demons. I'm thinking that's a bad deal."

Jenny gave him the same look she did when he was a kid who mispronounced demon names, which wasn't all that surprising when Giles and Jenny had never gone out of their way to help him do anything right. But he wasn't a kid, and he wasn't the one being big with the stupid. "Xander, this is a chance to truly destroy the demon that has taken over his soul."

"Speaking of, where is his soul?" Xander asked.

"That is unimportant." The Bobbsey twin boy offered, only Xander was not buying that.

"So, you're holding it hostage until the demon does enough damage to make Angel easier to control? Lady, if you think you're on the side of the angels, you're even more brain damaged than I thought, and I never had a very high opinion of you to start with," Graham said.

"I'm thinking she's evil," Xander said. Maybe his honesty was going to get him in trouble, but he was getting to the point where he just didn't even care anymore. "These Powers, you know, the ones that haven't actually shown themselves, they not only set up some guy to get tortured, but they consider this part of their big plan. That's the sort of plan that Spike makes, and as much as I love Spike, he's evil. He's evil, and you're looking pretty evil."

Xander turned to the Bobbsey twins. "Look me in the eye and tell me you aren't the sparkly, pretty version of evil."

The male looked at him with disgust. "You cannot conceive of what I am."

"Which is not a no," Xander pointed at the twins. "Evil. Sparkly evil. Maybe even inconceivably sparkly evil." Xander turned to Jenny. "But they're using earth as a playground and they think we're the toys... or maybe we're the worms that get that icky stuff on the toys. And you think you have a right to hold someone's soul hostage because sparkly evil wants an attack dog on a leash. I'm telling you... right now, I’m thinking maybe someone should just tell Angelus how to find you because that guy on the table... I don't know what he did, but I can safely say you three so deserve to get a little of his attention."

The fog formed into a new image, and Xander stumbled back until Graham caught him by an elbow. Xander gasped as his mother's apartment in Sunnydale materialized. A picture of him during his last visit sat on a shelf above her small table, and his mom was in the kitchen laughing. Her brash red hair dye had vanished about the same time as his father, and now she stood with a pot of coffee in hand and her salt and pepper hair swept up into a ponytail and a smile. Xander felt dizzy as his mom's visitor materialized. Angelus had a knowing smile and the sort of relaxed air that Angel never quite managed.

"No." Xander whispered the word, his eyes already burning as he tried to not cry. She was his mom. And Angel knew he wasn't close to her; Angelus wouldn't go after her. Except Angel knew that Xander still loved her, so Angelus had. The memory of the man Angelus had tortured rose up in his memory so vividly, that for a second, Xander thought he was actually seeing the two images superimposed.

"Fuck," Graham swore. "If you let him do this, I will hunt you down, witch."

"That's the way men have always done this. They slam their way through and never understand that the universe works through magic and rules that they can't even understand."

Xander ignored Jenny's angry protest as he watched his mother fill Angelus' cup before turning her back. Xander searched the scene for any proof that this was an illusion. What had Dr. Mayet said, though? The truth was enough, sometimes, and this actually made sense now that Xander was thinking about it. Angelus wouldn't like someone taking away what he considered his, and he was going to punish someone. Something crawled over his cheek, and Xander raised his hand to brush it away, only to find it was a tear.

His mom had her back turned, and Angelus tilted his head up and sniffed. Was he testing the truth of what she'd just said with a laugh? Was he searching for Xander's scent? Xander held his breath, terrified as his mom turned around again and went to sit down at the tiny table. Angelus dwarfed it, and now Angelus reached out and caught his mom's hand, saying something that made her blush.

"Enough," Graham barked.

"No, I have to know," Xander said, almost panicking at the idea of the vision ending without knowing whether or not she had died just because he still loved her. The people at the table started speeding through time—their gestures turning into flutters until Angelus reached over and touched his mother's cheek before leaving. Outside, Angelus made a small gesture, and a vampire slipped out of the shadow to slink up to Angelus, his whole body radiating submission.

"He's just watching. It's a logical place to watch. It doesn't mean anything," Graham offered, but Xander's fear was a stone in his stomach. Of course it meant something. It meant that when Angelus got too frustrated, his mom was going to be right in the middle of a big old target. Xander closed his eyes and tried to sort through all the fears that crashed through him.

"If you believe that, you haven't read his history." Jenny sounded so damn happy, but that was his mom who had been sitting and having coffee with a monster who had charmed her.

"His history ended over a century ago. I don't assume that his behavior then will match his behavior now," Graham counted. "I don't mind telling you, in eighth grade, I was a real terror. I bullied pretty much anyone who stand still long enough to get bullied. I got over it."

"And you think he will? He's a demon. No matter what you think of what I did, we have the same objective now. We need to get his soul back to his body."

"Then tell us where it is, and we'll get on it. I don't think we need any more of your help."

"The soul moves along its own path," the girl twin offered. She held up a vial. "But this will return it."

"Return it to the body just as before," the male agreed.

"It's the only way to stop him," Jenny said in a soft voice that was probably meant to sound helpful or something, but right now, everything she said just sounded manipulative and bitchy. Xander looked up as something finally registered.

"Wait. His soul moved on?" Xander held his breath as he looked around.

Graham's eyes closed, and he pressed his lips together.

"But we can bring him back," Jenny said in a sort of bright cheerfulness that really did make Xander want her dead.

"But he's moved on." Xander stepped back, his chest aching so much that he wondered if he was having a heart attack.

"Xander, I'm so sorry," Graham offered, reaching out toward Xander.

"The vial," Jenny started to say.

"So, we pull him out of heaven?" Graham demanded.

"After what he's done, you can't think—"

"I think he was a good man who had asked God for forgiveness. So, if you sent his soul on its path, I'm guessing it found its way home." Graham turned his back to Jenny and moved close enough to Xander to put a hand on his shoulder.

"I think I'm dying." Xander said with a half smile. "Pretty wimpy, huh?"

"No," Graham said firmly. "Lady, I suggest you show us the exit before I break your neck."

Jenny walked to the Bobbsey twin and took the vial before walking toward them, the vial held out. "All of Angelus' evil came from that man. That vampire learned every petty and small thought in his head from the human soul who owned that body. If he's moved on to anywhere, it's hell, and the potion will bring him back from that. It will give him a chance to come back to this world, and even more, it will give him one last chance to be truly human and find a real redemption. One drop of this on him, and the soul is back in the body. Your alternative is to leave Angelus loose to play his games with the people of California. Maybe the Powers aren't the ones using earth as some sort of personal playground. Maybe you're hoping Riley will get pulled into this and the man who tossed you out on your ear will get eaten, is that your game?" Jenny asked. Xander watched as Graham went so still that Xander figured he was trying very hard to not break something. As long as the something in question was Jenny Giles, Xander was actually okay with some breaking.

"You truly are evil," Graham said slowly before turning to Xander.

"The choice is yours, but we do have options. One, we leave things as they are. The statistics are pretty clear that a territory owned by a master vampire has lower death rates than a fractured territory, no matter how many soldiers we put into the area. Spike held the hellmouth more effectively than your group, the slayer, and my unit combined. Even now, Buffy insists that the Hellmouth is quiet, but Riley's unit takes more injuries and casualties than most frontline units, and we can't have soldiers on every corner of L.A. Angelus could end up being less dangerous than the patchwork of minor vampire masters we have now."

"You can't...."

"Shut up," Graham told Jenny.

"Two, we can take Angelus out." Graham grimaced. "It would ensure that he didn't target us. Riley and Buffy would both back us, and with their help, we would have a pretty good chance. Three, we can try the soul spell and deal with the consequences. However, I'm not convinced that is a soul spell. It could be." Graham looked over at the Bobbsey twins. "It might be something else, and with Wesley trapped inside Angelus' lair, we have limited resources. Giles might be the best bet to confirm the spell."

Graham moved toward Jenny, and she took a quick step back, but he only snatched the vial from her hand before moving back toward Xander. Grabbing Xander's wrist, Graham forced Xander to lift his hand and then put the vial in it. "The choice is yours, but I'm going to back whatever decision you make."

"Me?" Xander's voice broke like he was some thirteen year old kid.

"Every option has tactical advantages and dangers. This isn't..." Graham stopped. He glared at Jenny Giles for a second before he continued. "This isn't a military decision. You know Angel better than any of us, and this is his life."

Xander stared down at the pale blue liquid in the clear vial.

"I don't think—" Jenny started to say, but then Xander lost his balance, like he was going down a slide standing up. He tightened his hold on the vial as Jenny's voice faded.


	39. 39

Xander blinked as the sun shone right into his eyes. Okay, he was about an hour from sunset, which suggested that either he hadn't lost any time in the land of the white or he's lost whole days. "Graham?" Xander looked around and his guts tightened into one solid knot. If Xander needed any more proof that the Powers that Be were just one more group of demons, this would be it. Of course, Xander hadn't really needed any proof. So this was just the cherry on the shitcake. The Hyperion rose up in front of him, her classic lines as familiar to him as his own hand.

A woman brushed by him on the street, and Xander fumbled with the potion in his hand. "Shit shit shit." He clutched the vial close and backed away from the street. Oh yeah, he was getting some odd looks, but he really didn't need to drop this thing. God only knew what the Powers had given him. Armageddon in a bottle maybe.

A tree spread its branches over the sidewalk and part of the Hyperion's front courtyard, and Xander sat on one of the exposed roots and leaned back into the rough bark. The church was right down the street. But Father Peter would have run for it, and Xander didn't actually expect the church building to provide any answers. Spike was all the way over at the university, and Xander wasn't sure he had the energy to take the damn bus over there.

Closing his eyes, Xander ordered himself to just stop playing games. The truth was that part of him didn't want to go find Spike. Part of him wanted to just sit here until the sun went down and then he wouldn't have to carry the weight of all these decisions anymore. He wasn't decision boy. Everyone else always had the answers. Father Peter would tell him that he couldn't trust anything the Powers said and talk about feet of clay and tell Xander to hand the potion and the story over to the nearest church. Spike would probably just smash it and curse colorfully. Graham was all about tactical advantages and securing more intel. Xander... he just didn't know. He'd always followed his heart, and he was pretty sure that was broken.

Looking up at the light filtering through the branches, he held the potion in his hand and waited for some sort of answer to find him. If Father Peter was right about Angel being able to earn forgiveness for his sins, then Xander was pretty sure he'd been forgiven. Angel had been about as sorry as he could get, and Xander had woken more than once to find Angel fingering a rosary while smoke curled up from his fingers. If he'd earned heaven, did Xander really have a right to pull him out of that and bring him back just because Xander's heart hurt so much that he felt like he was going to die? A tiny, cowardly part of Xander thought that dying might not be such a bad answer, and maybe that was why he was sitting outside the Hyperion. Angelus would turn him. The him that cared about trying to make the right choice—the him who was so confused and hurting would just stop existing. Maybe the confused part of him and the soul part of Angel could hang out somewhere while their vampire selves got big and bad.

"Xander?"

Xander rolled his head to one side so that his cheek rested against the rough bark. Wesley stood there shifting feet nervously.

"Hey," Xander offered with a weak smile.

"Um... yes, indeed, hey." Wesley was at his stuttering best. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Xander countered.

"Actually, since I live here, I doubt the question carries the same weight," Wesley inched closer, still shifting side to side.

"Are you about to jump on me or something?" Xander asked as he watched Wesley's increasingly nervous movement.

Wesley sighed. "I had been considering it. Angelus ordered me to capture you, which did pose a rather difficult dilemma."

"Because you like me too much?" Xander asked.

Wesley moved to a small brick wall and sat down, his body language tight, but no longer jittery. "I fear the compulsion spell would overcome any inherent fondness or respect; however, I doubt I could succeed in an ambush. Believe it or not, I am quite skilled with combat and weaponry when I have time to plan each move and prospective countermove; however, in battle, one rarely has the ability to make such plans. That would be why I tend to trip my own allies, a trait for which Spike has threatened to shave my head. I have no illusions about my ability to overpower you given that you were trained by Angel and Spike."

"Oh, I don't know. I'm feeling pretty not up to defending myself right now."

Xander sat upright as Wesley's whole body seemed to jerk like a puppet on a string. Or a puppet on a bunch of different strings all pulling different directions. Wesley grimaced in pain and used a word that Xander normally associated more with Spike than with Wesley and all his starch.

"Wesley?"

"I truly wish you would not imply that I could overpower you. I fear it makes the compulsion to do so very..." Wesley grimaced again.

"Okay, that looks freakily painful." Xander pushed himself up and went over to crouch in front of Wesley. Wesley's hand darted out and grabbed Xander's shirt.

"Please, get away," Wesley gasped, and his mouth twisted in pain. With a hiss, he jerked at Xander's shirt with all the grace of a thing with absolutely no grace.

"Wesley, I'm not going anywhere. If I was going to go somewhere, I would have gone," Xander assured him. Resting on hand on Wesley's knee, he clutched the vial close to his stomach. "I was just planning on sitting here until sundown because my knees are pretty much knocking at the idea of walking in there on my own. Only, I have a potion that I'm fairly sure is hugely bad, so you have to stop pulling at me. If we drop this, I have no idea what would happen, and our combined clumsy factor is not really of the good."

Wesley's body slowly calmed, and his gasps turned into a sort of panting. "Why?" he finally gasped out. He didn't let go of Xander's shirt, but Xander had enough room to sit next to Wesley, dragging Wesley's arm with him so that Wesley ended up twisting around so they were facing each other.

"Was Angelus gone last night or the night before? Like for all night gone with the car type gone?"

"Yes." Wesley watched Xander with a frown that just kept growing deeper. But that was the answer that actually made this easier.

"I think the Powers that Be were telling me the truth about Angelus visiting my mom. He charmed her into an invitation into her house, and from the looks of it, he was sniffing around to see if I'd been there."

"Good lord. Is she..." Wesley stopped. It was so weird. Wesley's face and voice showed nothing but sorrow and concern, but his hand was gripping Xander's shirt so painfully tight that the fabric was digging into his underarms.

"She's okay. Angelus was all weirdly in a good mood. But if he gets frustrated, how long do you think she'd live? How long do you think the people at school would live? How long do you think you'd live?" Xander asked.

"So, you find your own life worth so little, you would trade it away?"

"I'm thinking I'm just making the inevitable happen a little faster." Xander shrugged. "Kept running, and the more I ran, the more I didn't know where I was supposed to be running toward. The Powers want me to turn Angelus into Angel again, the weird evil lawyers are just being creepily helpful, and part of Ra, the big sun god, would like me to fall off a cliff. Actually, I think the Ra lady and the Powers would like all the humans to fall off a cliff, but it's me they all seem to be noticing. How long do you think I'd survive out there?"

"So you're just back here so Angelus can..." Wesley looked away, and the hand that was holding Xander twitched, ripping out the few chest hairs Xander had managed to grow.

"Kill me? Probably." Xander agreed. "He was all interested in turning me last time. But I'm thinking the alternative is letting him lose his good mood and starting ripping through everyone I know. And I get the weird feeling that the creepy lawyer guys are going to start helping him since I said I didn't want their help."

"Wolfram and Hart?" Wesley asked, his face still turned away.

"Those are the creeps."

"Angelus has one of their lawyers in the dungeon."

"We have a dungeon?" Xander tried hard to not think about the image the Bobbsey twins had shown him.

"Apparently so." Wesley sounded so tired.

"Hey, is there any way I could transfer the spell on you over to me?" Xander asked, suddenly hopeful. Maybe he could get Wesley out of the way before Angelus went and turned him.

Wesley turned and looked at Xander, his mouth open. "You would choose to take on a compulsion that puts you in the control of a bloodthirsty monster?"

"Um, pretty sure I'm going to be under his control anyway," Xander said with a shrug. It had sounded like a good idea in his head. Now, Wesley was looking at him like Xander had just suggested they kill Bambi or something. Xander turned to watch the patterns of light on the sidewalk. This might be the last sunlight he got to truly enjoy. He reached out his free hand and watched the sun and the shadows of the leaves dance over it.

"You should leave."

"Really? And what should I do with this?" Xander held up the vial he still held in his right hand. "The magical potion that turns Angelus into Angel. Unless the Powers that Be are lying, and then it could be the big vial that opens the doorway so that their world comes pouring into ours. Or maybe they're telling the truth and this would pull Angel out of heaven and shove him back into the body of a demon so he could remember all the terrible things he did when his soul was checked out." Xander looked at Wesley. He didn't have any illusions about what Angelus would have done to prove his mastery. Spike had said it often enough—rape and evisceration were a vampire's best friends. "Wesley, I'm really sorry. It's my fault you know. I made him happy. Jenny Giles helped by canceling some of the Cordelia stress with her spell, but I made him happy. If you want to blame someone, I'm really okay with you blaming me."

"I most certainly do not blame you. And if that blasted witch cast a spell, I am more than willing to put all blame at her doorstep. If your surrender is about guilt—"

"Nope," Xander cut him off. "This is more like being practical."

"By surrendering to Angelus?"

Xander thought about that, his heart pressing so hard against his chest that he couldn't breathe. "He knows me well enough that I don’t have a chance to get away," Xander said softly. "He knows I still love him." Xander's voice broke. He was so going to hell. Angelus was evil, but he was the only part of Angel, the only part of Liam still left. He was the demon who had given up hunting to go to the suckhouse because Xander talked him into it. He was the one who was so hurt over his father's assholiness that he had tried to prove himself by raping the world. He was the only who had run hands over Xander's body after Xander had confessed his love. Yep, he was officially going to hell.

"Oh, Xander." Wesley finally loosened his hold of Xander's shirt. His hand slid down until it rested on Xander's knee.

"So, I figure I've got a couple of choices. The Powers want me to throw the potion at him. That way Angel gets pulled back into the body where he can be miserable, and they can use that misery to keep him on a short leash and Angelus gets to be miserable under all the guilt. I can't do that to either of them." Xander rubbed his eyes with his sleeve and tried to just hold it together. "And option two would be the big Romeo and Juliet ending where I take him down and go down with him and hope that we end up in heaven together and that Father Peter is wrong about gays. And I might do that, only my chances of touching him are less than zero. So, I’m going with choice three."

"Surrender?" Wesley asked. "Are you entirely sure that's wise?"

Xander laughed. The sound rushed out of him so fast that for a second, he couldn't get a breath in. "Hell no. It's just the only choice that other people aren't pushing me to make. And face it; I'm not good at following orders."

"But Xander, he's not Angel."

"Nope." Xander took a deep breath. "I figure he'll turn me, and I'll be substitute Spike until Spike actually comes back. I guess at that point it will depend on how much I've annoyed him. But I don't think it will actually be me in there, so I guess it doesn't matter at that point."

"Good lord. Spike's coming back? Have none of you any sense of self-preservation?"

Xander laughed and snuffed. "Not so much. He'll be back as soon as Cordelia is safely dead of old age, so I guess in vampire years that's not too long."

"Well." Wesley stopped. "Angelus is not quite what I would have expected given the tomes written on his penchant for torture." Wesley chewed on his lower lip for a second, and Xander could only watch. The sun was about to dip under the horizon, so it was easier now. Even if he wanted to run, Angelus would catch him quickly enough.

"No stacks of drained nun's bodies?" Xander asked hopefully.

"No, indeed not. Three watchers from a retrieval team came to town in search of some blasted prophecy, and they certainly bore the brunt of Angelus' curiosity." Wesley cringed in a way that suggested that had been far less than pleasant. Xander had a pretty good idea how that had ended... or how it had gone in the middle anyway. "However, with the exception of those three, Angelus has been far more interested in making himself felt in demonic circles."

Xander nodded. "He's not a fifty year old fledge trying to impress his sire," Xander pointed out. "He's going to want bigger and badder bad guys to kill. Spike went through that phase with killing humans, and he actually gets cranky when people bring it up. It sends him off describing the hordes of vampires and scourge and actual big bads he's killed. Killing humans is a little like killing cows. Not so much glory."

"I am beginning to think that the entire watchers' library is utter bullocks," Wesley muttered. "However, I still think this is a foolhardy decision. Your grief and possibly your romantic view of Angel are coloring your decisions with Angelus."

"Probably," Xander agreed. "And hey, maybe if I were Riley or Buffy, I'd kill myself before I'd let Angelus turn me, but if I do that...."

"Angelus would most likely turn his frustrations out on everyone else."

"Yep. Maybe this is better, but it's my choice even if it sucks. Hopefully I'll settle for just tracking my father down and eating him. My mom really has always done her best, and her best wasn't great, but considering my best consists of sitting here waiting for Angelus to come out here, I don't think I really have a lot of room to criticize."

"Oh, Xander." Wesley's fingers tightened around Xander's knee, but there really wasn't much else to say. Xander watched the fading light of sunset dance across the windows of the buildings, creating shadow monsters in the corners of the corbels.


	40. 40

Angelus stepped out from the shadow of the courtyard. The sun was just slipping below the horizon, and his skin tingled, a sort of lingering pain that warned him back to the shadows, but he was in no danger of bursting into flames, and the pain was only a reminder that he was, for the first time in a century, alive.

"Wesley, go inside," Angelus ordered. He smiled as the watcher jerked. The more the man fought the compulsion, the more amusing his pain became. Angelus watched the battle, which could have only one ending.

"Yes, master," Wesley eventually acceded before he seemed to regain control of his limbs. He ducked his head submissively and headed for Angelus, passing him without making any comment. Of course, Angelus would have to speak to him later because he was not pleased that the watcher had gone so far to try and convince his prize to escape.

"Xander, I had expected you sooner. Had ye not been so stubborn, I wouldn't have visited your mother," Angelus pointed out.

"Yep. I figured that part out." Xander was looking down, fingering the vial he'd described to Wesley as magic from the Powers that Be. Angelus' skin crawled. If that potion could force the return of the soul, it was far more dangerous than the sun.

"Careful boy. You miss, and you'll pay for trying. You and your mother," Angelus warned.

Xander looked up with startled eyes. It bothered Angelus that he couldn't understand what Xander was thinking. Xander was his, and the hidden thoughts were an anathema to him. If he owned Xander, then he owned Xander's thoughts. They should be open to him.

"I wasn't going to." Xander blurted the words and then reached over to carefully set the vial down on the brick wall before scooting back so that it was out of his reach. "If I used it and it ended up being a door to hell, that would be bad."

"And if it brought the soul back?" Angelus asked. He studied Xander, searching for the familiar body language that he could read as easily as the words on the page, but the language spoken by Xander's limbs had shifted. The twitches and looks were unfamiliar, and Angelus growled at the evidence that there was some part of Xander he didn't understand or command.

"Um, the soul doesn't want the guilt, and you don't want the soul, so I'm thinking that's a bad plan. And the fact that the Powers think it would be a great plan because they could control you using your guilt? Um, that makes it seem even less good-like. So, hey, it's all yours. And before you think about bringing hell on earth, just remember that the Powers are the sort of demons who like the all-powerful calm and boring end of hell. Happy-happy-joy-joy hell. Not really your sort of place." Xander looked down and curled the hem of his shirt around his finger, a gesture Angelus had not seen in many years.

Smiling at the evident capitulation, Angelus slid forward, his attention on both the vial and the street. If Spike or Faith wished to challenge him, he was more than ready for the fight. Angel had restored most of his power... training and feeding well enough that Angelus could feel the demon's strength coiled under the human skin. But now the last lingering traces of the soul were gone, so doubt and guilt wouldn't slow him. He would see Faith and Spike kneel to him as the clan leader or he would see them dead. The choice really was theirs.

Xander didn't move as Angelus final reached out for the vial, slipping it into his pocket before he moved to Xander's side. Angelus brought his hand down on Xander's shoulder, and Xander flinched. The smell of fear was intoxicating, but there were even greater pleasure to be had from a human body, and Xander would yield those pleasures or he would become a childe to carry on the line.

"Do ye fear me?" Angelus asked in a low voice, his fingers rubbing circles on Xander's shoulder.

"Um, only totally."

Angelus chuckled. "And yet you're here. You clearly know your place, m'fhear. I hope William comes to his senses as quickly or he won't like what I do to that pet of his." At the mention of Cordelia, Xander flinched again. The boy had such little common sense; he would advertise his weakness for everyone to see. In a vampire, that would be idiocy, but in a human toy, it was oddly charming. There was not any attempt to keep information from a master, only the total yielding of secrets.

"So, is this going to hurt?" Xander looked up, his gaze charmingly vulnerable. Drusilla was the last to look at him like that. Even now, William's gaze always had caution or challenge, but never the total submission of a young one to his master. Just as soon as Angelus found William, he would change that, but for now, Angelus planned to enjoy his newly recaptured prize.

"I suppose that's up to me," Angelus pointed out. The boy knew well enough that sharing a bed could be a great pleasure, a greater one than sharing the bed of a certain upstart. However, if Xander wished to play coy, Angelus could certainly that play game.

Xander's gaze slipped back down to settle at Angelus' feet, his breathing ragged.

"If you fear me so much, you should have hidden behind William. Or did he choose his viper over you and toss you out?"

"Not so much tossing. More like people pulled me away, and I didn't bother going back, and he's going to be more than a little cranky about that."

"He knows your place is with me, m'fhear. William is a fool who needs to learn to respect his betters, but he's not so much a fool that he would believe you would go back to him." Angelus pulled on Xander's shoulder, and Xander stood without raising his eyes. When Angelus slipped his hand around Xander's back, pulling him in tight, Xander finally looked back up with those large, vulnerable eyes.

"Now? Here?" Xander's voice broke the way it used to when he'd been a half-grown colt of a boy.

"Are ye saying no to me?" Angelus asked, the warning clear in his voice. While he might enjoy a willing human, there would be other humans willing enough. Considering her slavish joy in serving, the human Harmony probably would have been happy enough to lay under a master. Xander was not the only human who could serve. Angelus felt a flash of frustration at that because he didn't actually want another human. He wanted Xander, but he wanted Xander to be as he was before. And if he wouldn't be.... Angelus felt his eyes yellow in frustration. Xander shivered and shook his head before he tilted his head to the side exposing his neck.

Laughter chased the frustration from Angelus as he considered his boy's offer. Xander looked up, startled and blinking like a newly woken owl. "I'll not be turning you, boy. I was trying to offer you a kiss, but if you'd rather be more intimate on the street, I'll offer the good people a show they won't soon forget."

"Um... no. No, a kiss would be good," Xander said, and the smell of relief nearly washed away the fear as Angelus leaned down to claim Xander's lips. This was as familiar. He knew how Xander tasted, how he felt. The way he stretched up into the touch and made a little humming noise when Angelus pulled him in close... this Angelus knew. Angelus stood on the street with the noisy cars racing past and the first of his minions drifting out of the hotel, and he kissed Xander until the fear and misery had faded into the more familiar scent of a randy young man who would soon be moaning in Angelus' bed. Pulling back, Angelus watched Xander with amusement. The boy was easily led by his cock. Then again, Liam had not been much different. Human males were, by definition, weak.

"Master," a minion offered in a respectful tone as he bowed his way past them. Xander's musk sharpened.

"Xander," Angelus warned, tightening his arm around his boy as he headed into to Hyperion.

Xander turned his head toward Angelus and whispered. "I’m just having a small moment of freaking out. I'm supposed to be stopping vampires from going out hunting, not watching them go."

"As if you could stop vampires from hunting," Angelus said dismissively. "Even the soul knew that was a fool's game. At best you picked off the weakest and allowed the strongest to flourish without the others to muddy the hunting waters." The lobby had a dozen demons, and the moment Angelus walked in the room, the tone changed. Heads lowered, and one minion slipped down to his knees. Angelus smiled as he headed for the sitting room he had claimed for his audience room.

"Master, the lawyers have sent another message through the phone," a minion said from the desk. Angelus hadn't turned her, but she was turning out to be the most useful of the minions that had shown up after he'd killed the Baldwin Hills master. However, it would not pay to let her know that. He ignored her and headed for the sitting room. All the furniture was gone except for the large chair that now sat next to the fireplace Xander had so carefully restored. It was proper to put his newest toy back into place, much like the small toy he'd had as a child. He'd always carefully put back each small wooden animal into the small ark, and now he felt that same sense of completion as he brought Xander back to the room he had restored.

"Xander!" Harmony called out joyfully. Without letting go of Xander, Angelus used his free hand to slam Harmony into a wall. Xander jerked as her blonde hair flew around her face from the force. She hit the wall with an exaggerated squeak and fell to the ground. If she were not so good at cleaning the rooms and impressing the guests with her slavish adoration, Angelus would kill her simply for making that noise.

"Geez, sorry, master. It's not like you don't know I worship the ground you walk on. I was just surprised and happy... for you... happy for you," Harmony defended herself from the floor. "You two are like Rachel and Ross, only the gay version, and I was happy to see you back together."

Angelus sat in his chair and pulled Xander close. For a second, Xander was confused. He tried to slip in beside Angelus, but there were certain liberties Angelus did not intend to allow the boy until their roles were clear. After a second of squirming, Xander got the point and slipped down to the floor at Angelus' feet.

"Harm?" Xander called. Angelus frowned at the concern he could hear. He would not have alliances within his court. That was where old Heinrich had lost control... he had allowed Darla and Luke and Colin to form their own allegiances. Then again, the old fool had followed the prophet Aurelius, and as far as Angelus was concerned, only a fool allowed his life to be ruled by the dictates of another. He would form a new family, one based not on some unclear future but on the promise of pleasure and wealth. Heinrich had his caves and his prophesies and his hellmouth, and his bones would rot forever for all his troubles.

"Hey Xander, guess what? I finally got to have sex. I was really starting to get a complex." Harmony got up from the floor and flipped her hair back into place. "Do you need anything, boss? I could get you a nice brunette for lunch."

Angelus frowned as Xander's smell soured. "Get out," he ordered the minion.

"Geez, Mr. No-manners," she muttered. Angelus was half out of his seat, but she was already running, and he had other, more immediate concerns. Namely, his boy clearly needed some training.

 

Xander felt like he was caught in the middle of a Monty Python sketch. Harmony and her declaration were just the surreal icing on the weird cake.

"You won't tell me to drink bagged blood," Angelus snarled. Xander looked up, startled at the yellowed and angry gaze staring down at him. Obviously, he had done something to piss Angelus off.

"Nope, this is me not telling you what to do. Actually, I'm way ahead of expectations by just not dying, so I think I've used up my favors." Xander bit his tongue because he wanted to say a lot more. He wanted to say that he understood why Angelus was all touchy about getting told what to do because Liam's father had been an ass. He wanted to say that when Angelus had kissed him, Xander could almost believe that some part of Angel was still in there, but that would probably not go over real well. Instead he focused on the pattern on Angelus' leather pants.

"Isn't leather stiff?" Xander asked. "Not that I'm saying that you shouldn't wear it because hey, you actually look really good in leather, so I'm voting yea leather." Xander blurted the second part out the second he realized that he definitely did not want to go telling Angelus anything. He looked up, half expecting an explosion. Instead Angelus was looking at him with the sort of confusion that Xander thought was all Angel. Obviously he confused Angelus, too.

"You're worried about my pants?" A smirk slipped into place, and that was way more of an Angelus expression.

"Um, you threatened to beat Spike if he kept getting me tight jeans because you said that if I got killed because my pants were too tight you'd strip the skin off his back. So, I guess I'm just confused."

Angelus' eyebrow went up. "Maybe that was the soul's opinion."

Xander snorted, and then he nearly died as he realized that he was so seriously pushing getting-made-fun-of buttons. "That was not nearly as dismissive as it sounded," Xander said with a cringe. "Only, it kinda was. Seriously, the soul was all guilt having over leaving Spike with Darla. The whole threatening to kill Spike was way more you."

"The soul was an idiot," Angelus said with a grimace. "And leather is made from skin. It stretches as you move. We should get you some good fighting gear." Angelus' expression grew thoughtful. "A few minions could learn a lesson or two. Actually, after you stake them, they wouldn't be learning anything, but the ones who survived might learn to stop making assumptions. Truly, the quality of vampires in this city is abhorrent. At least the church and its hunters killed off the stupid minions. Now we have Harmony." Angelus sighed.

"You want me to stake Harmony?" Xander asked. He could feel his stomach growing its first ulcer.

Angelus gave him another confused look. "I thought she offended you with her offer to bring me a human for dinner."

Xander thought about that. "Well, she did. But you know, the panthers at the zoo would eat people if people were in their cages to eat, and that would offend me, but I wouldn't kill the panthers. Maybe. Actually, I'm morally ambiguous right now. Could you get back to me on that question?"

Angelus shook his head. "If you weren't so good in bed, m'fhear, I would fear for your survival."

Xander sucked in a breath.

"What?" Angelus growled the word, and Xander looked up, his guts curling into a tiny ball as he looked at Angelus' barely contained fury.

"What did I do wrong? Because if you're going to keep growling at me like that, I'm going to have a heart attack, and dead me would not be good in bed. I hope. That's just.... Okay, brain gone wrong here." Xander held his breath, half waiting to get backhanded or stripped and raped. In fact, the part of his brain that usually enjoyed indulging in horror films was sending up a regular film festival of images that would give Graham a heart attack, and Xander was not nearly as tough as Graham.

"You're afraid of me," Angelus accused him.

"You're growling at me. There's fear here. I can't help that."

"I try to be nice, and you feel fear. If you're going to smell of fear anyway, I can think of ways to enjoy that." Angelus smiled evilly, and Xander felt cold fear that sank into his very bones. Oh yeah, there were definitely worse things than dead, and he should have thought of that before. His brain was a little mouse running around a wheel, and everything Xander thought he understood about Angelus just slipped out of reach. Angelus had won. He had what he wanted. Why do this now?

Little rabbit breaths slipped in and out, and Xander couldn't get enough air into his lungs, but he forced himself to hold his breath until he was almost dizzy. Reaching out, Xander grabbed Angelus' knee just to keep his balance as his blood did odd things like leaving his brain. "Can't really stop you. And I can't stop from being afraid when I don't understand what you want. I came back, so that was my big move. I guess it's your move now."

"I said I wouldn't turn you."

"Please don't take offense at this and go growling at me again because my heart really is on the verge of giving out here." Xander took a quick look up and Angelus looked more confused than ready to growl. "But you lie."

Angelus laughed. It wasn't a dismissive laugh or even the sort that villains made right before shooting someone. It was an honestly amused belly laugh. "Of course. Everyone lies." Maybe some of Xander's confusion was showing because Angelus reached down and stroked Xander's cheek. "M'fhear, tell me what you are thinking."

Part of Xander wanted to just say, 'nothing' and pretend that he wasn't more confused and scared than he had ever been in his life, but he was guessing that Angelus' comment that everyone lied wasn't exactly permission for him to try it. "I don't know why you wouldn't kill me, and that is not a suggestion that you change your mind or anything because I was having nightmares about my body running around doing really goofy things."

"You would be a beautiful vampire," Angelus said in a tone that suggested he was trying for reassuring. And immediately he frowned.

"You're sniffing," Xander said loudly. Angelus actually blinked and pulled back in surprise. "Which explains the growling, but you can't hold me responsible for my smell."

"It's your smell that I want. If you're going to smell of fear like any human, then I'll treat you like any human," Angelus threatened. Yep, that was pure Liam, and Xander actually felt better now because he was starting to see the pieces of Liam in Angelus. They weren't the same, but they were there. Angelus was feeling jealous of Angel because Xander smelled lusty around Angel, and Xander was not going to think where Angelus' sibling rivalry had led to last time. That had not been a pleasant story.

"But you have to convince me that you don't see me like any human, and yeah you said it, but you know I don't really get things unless I feel them because my head is not nearly as smart as my heart." Xander scooted around so he could see Angelus better. "And I didn't actually think I would be having this conversation because I expected to be dead by now, so I'm a little unprepared to try and figure out how I feel about this."

Half way through the speech, Angelus started smiling. It was a sly smile, one that promised naughty, naughty things. "You want to feel me? You only had to ask, m'fhear."

"I did say that, didn't I?" Xander frowned. "I didn't actually mean literally." He expected Angelus to really get mad, but instead, Angelus lifted one foot over Xander so that he was straddling Xander, and then he started sliding off the chair. And wow, his leather pants truly did stretch. They stretched in all sorts of directions. "I'm not sure...." Xander said. He could feel his breath leaving him for a whole different reason. Angelus was now on the floor, his knees straddling Xander's legs, and Angelus used his hands to push Xander back onto the thick rug.

Angelus' smile grew wider. "Boy, your body and your mind truly do not have consensus in many areas. I have no need for more vampires, but any one that brings me such pleasure... he need not fear for his life, m'fhear. I didna lie when I told you that it was my hands on you, making you squirm with pleasure the last time we were together." Angelus pulled Xander's shirt, and buttons plinked off the fireplace screen and the floor and off something that rang like a muted bell.

"I'm so going to hell for this," Xander muttered, but his body knew this. This was familiar. In a world that didn't make sense with people who demanded things he couldn't understand, this he could do. Angelus put his hands on Xander's stomach, pinning him down, and Xander ran his palms up Angelus' forearms. He traced the line of the muscle under his fingertips, and Angelus smirked.

"You do not smell like you're suffering."

"Yeah, yeah, thinking bad. Let me freak out later," Xander said, tilting his head to the side and revealing the curve of his neck. A little part of him expected the fast strike, but Angelus moved just as slow as Angel ever had. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against the soft skin and breathed deeply. His cock was pressing against Xander's own, and Xander couldn't control his body anymore. He arched his back and pulled at Angelus' shoulder, trying helplessly to bring him closer. It never worked. No matter how much he tried, he could never budge Angel from the slow exploration.

With his eyes closing almost involuntarily, Xander let his worries slide away for later and just let himself perform this dance. His hands slid over the silk shirt, the cool fabric catching between his fingers. Arching up as much as he could, Xander held the back of Angelus' neck, pulling himself up into that touch with one arm while his other hand moved in toward the buttons, freeing them one at a time. When Angelus ran sharp teeth over his shoulder, a shiver went through Xander, and he gasped. The low chuckle was new, but the fingers sprawling over his stomach, tracing the curve of Xander's body, that was something he understood.

Xander pulled the last button free and started pushing Angelus' shirt off, letting his own hands explore a body strong enough to break him or hold him down and make him feel wonderful. Xander had the shirt halfway down Angelus' arms, exposing the shoulders so that he could run his hands over them, and then Angelus slipped fangs into Xander's shoulder.

Xander cried out in pleasure, the heat burning him and pressing close to pain while making him squirm for more. Strong hands caught him and pressed him down onto the carpet, and Xander found the touch, struggling to touch, to feel, to do something. However, all he could do was feel the growing heat gathering between them and suck in air that didn't want to stay in his body long enough for him to actually breathe.

Just when Xander was pretty sure that he was going to either die or come, or both, Angelus pulled back with a chuckle. "I knew you were still mine," Angelus said with a smugness that Xander probably should have taken offense at, but he just reached up and caught the back of Angelus' neck. He meant to pull Angelus down for a kiss, but instead, Xander ended up pulling himself up toward Angelus, opening his mouth in invitation, and Angelus took it. That's what Xander needed. Too much talk, and his badly overtaxed brain was going to start having thoughts again, and thoughts bad.

Angelus pulled back without warning, reaching down and pulling Xander's jeans open and pulling them down.

"Vial," Xander gasped, pointing at Angelus' pants.

"Someone needs a vocabulary lesson, boyo," Angelus said with a laugh as he grabbed his crotch.

Xander glared. "The vial. Don't break the vial. If I'm going to hell for still loving you, I would appreciate you not making hell come any faster than it needs to."

Angelus gave him an odd look, but he pulled the vial out of his pocket and put it carefully aside. "You will tell me the whole story of that."

"Like I understood any of it," Xander said with a snort. Angelus got a cranky look. "No, seriously, people were talking about hell and dimensions and statistics and uncles. It was very odd. And yes, I'll tell you, but I'm going to be weirded out when I do."

"Then it can wait," Angelus said firmly. "You think too much."

"First time for everything. Usually I don't think at all," Xander pointed out, but before he could come up with an argument to prove that, Angelus pulled the string on the funky tied front to his leather pants, and his erection appeared, thick and purpling and the head already poking out of the sheath. Xander reached out, but Angelus caught his wrist and held him an inch from his goal. Looking up, Xander waited for some sort of explanation, but whatever weirdness was going on in Angelus' head, it passed, and he released Xander's hand and watched while Xander reached out to run his finger along the exposed slit, collecting a drop of precum before bringing it up to his lips.

Xander had, unfortunately, hung around with Cordelia's cheerleaders long enough to know how much they complained about the smell and taste of going down on a guy, but to Xander, it was like salt and vinegar potato chips, and he had trouble stopping once he started with those, too. "If someone wasn't sitting on me, I can think of something to do with that," Xander offered as he eyed Angelus' erection.

"I can think of something I would rather do." Angelus stood up, and Xander watched while Angelus pushed his pants and shoes off in a graceful movement that would have left Xander tangled in his own legs and falling on the floor. Angelus picked up the vial and placed it in a box on the mantle before getting something out. The sight of lube was a real relief. Xander happened to know that Angel used blood when he took Spike, but that was not really something that worked with a human body. Angelus had turned back around to face Xander before it occurred to Xander that he should probably get rid of his own jeans.

Kicking, he tried to use one foot to push the jeans down on the other leg, but then his sneakers were still on, and the toe of his shoe got caught in the hem of the jeans, and Xander ended up softly cursing as he tried to straighten it all out.

Angelus chuckled. "Slow down, boy. My cock willna go anywhere." He saved Xander by capturing one leg and lifting it into the air so that Xander had to spread his arms out to keep his balance. His cock hung down and his lower back left the rug as Angelus held him in place while freeing his foot from the sneaker. Angelus lowered Xander's leg until his butt touched the carpet and then held it there. It took Xander a second to figure out to offer his other leg. Hey, if Angelus had a kink for holding him helpless while stripping him, Xander's cock was totally on board with that plan. With both shoes off, Angelus easily pulled the jeans off, and then the underwear so that Xander was now naked.

He went to turn over onto his belly, but Angelus caught him, holding him down with large hands on Xander's hips. "You'll look me in the eye and know it's me and not your beloved soul you're giving yourself to, boy."

For a long minute, Xander just looked up. Angelus' face was calm, impassive, and that wasn't an expression Xander saw on him very often. "I always loved the soul and the demon," Xander finally answered. "The soul has earned his redemption, and you're the one left here to love me back."

"And if had been me who'd been banished? If you'd been left with the soul?"

Xander didn't need Graham's degree in psychology to figure out the issues not-so-hidden in that question. "I probably wouldn't be having sex because Angel and sex were never an easy combination," Xander said slowly. From the look of disgust on Angelus' face, he'd noticed that on his own. "I'd still love Angel, but I don't know what we'd be doing. Probably looking for a really good therapist."

"So, you prefer me?" Angelus' look turned smug.

"I..." Xander stopped. He didn't want to lie. "I don't know," he answered. Angelus frowned. "I don't," Xander defended himself. "I don't know which of you was what part of the man I loved. Seriously, thinking bad. My brain stopped working hours ago."

"I'll just have to remind you of what you like, m'fhear." Angelus knelt down and pushed Xander's legs open. Xander yielded, happy to let the bigger question go because right now he did know what he liked. Angelus pulled Xander's legs up until the knees hooked on his shoulders. This was definitely new, but then Angelus slipped a slick finger inside, and Xander curled his hands into the rug and stopped thinking at all. He squirmed and called out as Angelus opened him faster than normal. The pressure in his cock was different at his angle, and Xander wanted to reach up and grab himself, but when he tried, Angelus would always shift his weight just a little, forcing Xander to spread his arms out to keep from being rolled to the side.

"Please," Xander gasped out, and finally Angelus pressed his cock against Xander's opening. He pressed in slowly for the first inch, and Xander arched his neck and just about screamed with frustration. Then Angelus drove forward. The heat drove into him, stretching him until he thought he might come apart at the seams and the come just spill out. Xander screamed and tried to thrust up into the air, only to find himself unable to do anything but hold onto the floor as Angelus drove into him over and over. Xander screamed Angelus' name as he came, and Angelus just continued his pace. The heat grew as Xander squirmed and called out incoherent noises.

Finally Angelus gave a little triumphant grunt and thrust one final time. For long minutes, he held Xander in place, bent in half and impaled on a still sizable erection. Vampires pretty much stayed hard until they didn't want to be hard, but usually Angel softened as soon as he came. Instead, Angelus slowly pulled out and stood up, his cock still fully hard.

Xander let his legs thump down onto the carpet and then lay sprawled in a sweaty and hot mess. "Damn," he breathed. He cracked an eye open and Angelus was still standing over him, erection firm as ever. "If you want round two, I'm all for it, but my cock has gone to its happy place for many hours. It's taken most of my brain with it."

Angelus didn't answer. He reached down and took his own erection in hand and slowly stroked himself.

"Give me a few minutes to find some brain cells I lost and I'll help you with that," Xander offered weakly. In truth, he just wanted to lay boneless and happy for the next year or so. With his eyes closed, the splattering was a surprise. Xander opened his eyes just as Angelus finished ejaculating on him. Come was splattered over Xander's stomach and chest, and a few drops cooled a pattern of spots on his face.

"You're mine, m'fhear. You don't have to think of all these other things because that is a fact you will never change." Angelus made the proclamation as if that could cancel all the moral dilemmas in Xander's head. Actually, it probably was his attempt to solve the problem, so from an Angelus point of view, he was probably trying to be nice.

"Got it," Xander agreed. No matter whatever else happened, he was Angelus', and he'd just have to try to do the right thing from inside a very wrong place. "Oh, and just so you know," Xander said sleepily. "Just because you're suddenly way better at sex does not mean I picked up any mad skills along the way. So, I hope you aren't going to get all cranky when I still do stupids."

"Like trying to snort my come?" Angelus asked with amusement.

"Exactly."

"Will you still smell contented as you demonstrate your questionable human reflexes?"

"Totally," Xander agreed. He opened his eyes in surprise when lips touched his in a soft kiss.

"You are mine. If you serve and obey me, you will never displease," Angelus promised as he knelt next to Xander. And then he was up and pulling his pants on. Clearly the snuggling had come from Angel. Xander pushed that small kernel of unhappiness aside and tried to find the peace he'd known just seconds ago.

"Sleep, boy. You smell of exhaustion." Angelus pulled a blanket from the back of the chair and draped it over Xander. "I'll be back for ye." With that, he went to the box over the mantle and took the vial. Even though Xander honestly tried to sleep, he found he couldn't.


	41. 41

Angelus dressed in the dark, not wishing to wake Xander. Awake, Xander drifted between contentment and despair in a pattern that Angelus could not understand. It annoyed him. A little part whispered that he could permanently solve that dilemma by simply breaking him. It had worked with Dru. However, he possessed something with Xander he'd never had with Dru.

When he touched Xander until the grief faded, the boy yielded himself up in ways that even Dru never would. Oh, she would yield quickly enough, but she did it with the coy expectation that she would get something from it. When she'd been human, she had yielded in return for her family's life and then, later, in return for the false hope for a quick death. After he'd turned her, she sought her own pleasure or protection or an audience for her ramblings. Angelus preferred Xander's unconditional surrender without any expectation.

However, he did not appreciate the periods of despair. The boy was right, though. Words would never convince him, so it was time for Angelus to get his family back. The boy was a social creature, and he needed his clan back. A fractured clan put stresses on the firmest loyalty.

Angelus smiled as he slipped his weapons into place. So, it was time to identify the weakest link. Of course that thought always made him think of Spike. The boy certainly wasn't the foppish waste of flesh he once had been, but if Angelus could get his hands on Cordelia, William would fall right into line. The fly in that ointment was Cordelia herself. If Angelus kept her chained, Xander would most certainly object. And if he turned her... well, he did not need another sharp-tongued shrew of a vampiress. He'd had that misery already. Angelus could never understand why the idiot soul mourned for Darla when she'd been such a misery to their unlife.

The memory of her hands guiding him to drink from her neck rose. Alright, she wasn't always a misery. He'd relished the feeling of being valued and owned. When she had chosen him over her old master, Angelus would have walked into the sun to please her. He had thought that he had finally found the loyalty denied him in life. But she had clearly not valued him all that much. She'd turned him away when he'd crawled back to her side, soul and all. Sometimes Angelus liked to remember her face when she'd looked at him with such loathing and then remember her face as she turned to dust. Bitch. She'd been wrong through. She was dead and he was the one still alive to enjoy all the pleasures she liked to indulge in.

The soul could wax poetic and lose himself in the romantic fantasy. Angelus remembered the reality—and the reality was that she would turn him over to a hunter to save herself the trouble of having to step over a mud puddle. Spike might have some illusion about Cordelia being his queen, but Angelus suspected she would turn out as mercenary and cold as Darla herself.

Turning, he considered the young man sprawled out in bed, hugging his pillow as if it was Angelus himself. Xander had chosen him over everything he had ever known. The contrast was not lost on him. So, Spike and his viper might need to wait. That left Faith and her human. Faith had obeyed him in all things: following Wesley when she had still been in Sunnydale, going to Washington, returning home. She was a likely candidate; in fact, she might obey if he simply ordered her back. However, the soldier was an unknown.

Riley had cast him aside. Angelus headed for the door, his thoughts turned to the smell of Graham's fear as Spike had circled him. He had come so close to breaking... not because of any fear but because of the way his ties had been so rudely severed from his human group. Angelus smiled. Graham's parents had died when he was young. Up until now, Angelus had considered that a liability because it left very few points of leverage on the pair. However, both had an overwhelming need for family and stability they lacked in their life, and Angelus was nothing if not stable. Oh yes, Faith and Graham would be the next to rejoin the family.

Decision made, Angelus closed the door behind him and headed down into his kingdom. The hotel was full of the scent of submission and fear, and minions scrambled to their feet as he walked down into the room.

"Boss!" Harmony called out with a cheerful smile. Angelus narrowed his eyes in warning, but it was a warning she did not heed. If it were not for the annoyance of having to manage the lair, Angelus would snap her neck. "The lawyer says he has to talk to you. I told him that he did not want to see you before you had a chance to catch someone to eat, but he says he'll take the risk."

Angelus stopped and considered that. Xander had admitted that Wolfram and Hart had not only cancelled the tracking spell but had attempted to pull Xander into some fool's bargain. Luckily, Xander was not a fool. Changing direction, Angelus headed for the dungeon the minions had set up in the basement.

"Should I bring you a girl?" Harmony called after him, but Angelus ignored her.

Soon he would have to get a majordomo to run the clan as Luke had managed affairs for the old master. He thought about Dalton with some longing. That man had known how to run the logistics of a clan and he had been quiet, a trait Angelus was beginning to appreciate. Most of his vampire life, he had avoided minions unless he needed someone to throw at a pitchfork or a torch-carrying crowd of peasants. Darla had considered them below her. Angelus just never understood how right she had been. They were-- as a whole--annoying, incompetent, groveling worms. As much as Angelus appreciated a good bout of groveling, their relentless quest for the best sycophantic behavior really did go too far.

Angelus reached the bottom of the stairs, his dark mood deepening by the second. The basement remodel was shoddy at best. The table he had used to torture the watcher into revealing his secrets was crooked, and one of the minions had died for that little annoyance, but Angelus did not plan to ask Xander to correct any of their work. The one flaw that his boy would always carry was in inability to understand that enemies did not deserve mercy. Angelus would simply have to protect his boy from his own ignorance.

"Comfortable night?" Angelus asked. The lawyer looked up, his hair falling forward into his eyes, but with his arms chained to the wall, he could do nothing to prevent that.

"I have a deal for you," he started.

"I've been looking for a vampire with some talent for logistics and finances, are you volunteering?" Angelus watched as the man twitched. The chains that bound him to the wall rattled, and the smell of fear and urine grew thick.

"Wolfram and Hart has a lot of resources..."

"Like the ones they used to take the tracking spell off my human?" Angelus asked mildly enough, but the man's eyes went wide.

"I swear, I don't know anything about that. I came to you with open hands and an honest offer of alliance. I don't think you understand how much we could help each other." He talked so fast that the small cut on his lip from Angelus' earlier attentions split open again.

"So, you believe I'm ignorant," Angelus checked. Oh yes, this was the sort of enjoyment the soul would never allow himself. Angelus stalked forward, watching the little lawyer and his little rabbit heart pound so frightfully fast.

"I would never say that."

"I believe you just did."

"I just want a chance to explain everything we have to offer. A vampire such as yourself has to understand the value of having the law on your side... and the irony. I hear you're a big fan of irony. I can appreciate that."

Angelus stopped him by bringing a hand up to his mouth, running his finger thought the blood that sluggishly trickled from the split lip. Bringing it to his mouth, Angelus made an appreciative hum of his own. "Your request for an audience interrupted my breakfast."

The prey swallowed fast, his Adam's apple bobbing merrily and his hands closing into fists. "Russell Winters found me very useful... in the courtroom."

"I'm not Russell Winters," Angelus pointed out. That moron had been defeated in his own lair by Angel, so the little rabbit would not win any points with that argument. Angelus frowned as it suddenly occurred to him that this little nameless emissary had been the same human Spike had fed on during that conflict. At the time, the man had been lucky that Spike had been too afraid of his sire's wrath to kill. It looked like the rabbit's luck had now run out.

"I have a lot of talents."

Angelus ran his hand down over the prey's chest where the heart was beating so fast that it was a fluttering under Angelus' palm. "What sort of talents?" Angelus purred the words, well aware that the little prey was hoping to trade only his education and his words.

"Please."

"Please? I do enjoy begging. What I enjoy even more is a good little slave that provides his master with information without dissembling. You, however, have not been a good little slave. If you're not willing to talk, I can find other uses for your mouth."

The prey snapped his mouth closed, almost instinctively, and Angelus smiled as he brought his finger up to run across those closed lips. A willing partner who found joy in the coupling was a relatively new pleasure for Angelus, but one need not give up old pleasures for the new.

"Wolfram and Hart has plans," the prey blurted out. If anything, his heart was beating even faster, fluttering at a speed that was bordering on dangerous. "They have seers, and their seers have told them that you might bring Armageddon for the other side."

"Armageddon?" Angelus laughed. "Only a fool wants to end this world full of pleasures. A fool or a madman." Angelus didn't mention that more than once during his century of imprisonment within his own body that he had yearned for that. Death would have been preferable to crawling through alleys in search of rats as prey, and if he could have taken out the rest of the world with him, that would have simply been a bonus. However, one simply did not give up the pleasures he had now with his court. He had a warm, willing and loyal bed partner waiting for him. He had a court of minions that lived and died on his word, and he had a city full of demons waiting to tremble at his feet.

"The soothsaysers—"

Angelus cut him off with a laugh. "They always sound so confident, but their words twist and distort the truth." Drusilla had been like that, screaming warnings that sent them running into the night, only to have the attack of which she had warned happen four years later. But the rabbit was too frightened for this to be a matter of such little consequence. "What have they done?" Angelus asked. He leaned forward, smelling deeply of the terror that poured from the little rabbit.

"Please. They'll kill me."

Angelus smiled and leaned in closer until he was sniffing little rabbit's throat. "You'll be lucky if I only kill you," Angelus whispered. He licked the front of rabbit's throat. The smell of urine intensified, and Angelus took a step back. He had business to attend to, and he did not need his prey's urine on his shoes while he did it. "Last chance," Angelus warned.

"They're determined to break any connections between you and the Powers that Be. They want to have some sort of eyes on the inside of your court."

"So they sent you?" Angelus considered the poor creature in front of him. He was dirty and bruised and reeking of humanity. If this was Wolfram and Hart's best spy, the organization was not nearly as organized as Angelus had assumed.

"I was just here to make the offer. We could provide tactical teams, magic users, seers, anyone you want. We want to have an alliance with you."

"But I'm not interested in an alliance with you, no more than I have any interest in the Powers," Angelus answered, backing up another step. If this one had no other information, it might be time to throw him to the minions. He was too soiled for Angelus to have any interest in him. He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Rabbit called out after him. "They're doing some sort of a raising."

Angelus didn't even bother to turn around. "A raising?"

"I don't know. I was only told that if this went badly, I only had to survive long enough for a demon named Voca to perform the ritual. They said that you would be easier to control then."

Angelus turned and snarled at the lawyer; the very thought of worms like this trying to control him made him ill.

"I could be leverage. Holland says I have a bright future with them. They would pay to have me back." The words tumbled out of the rabbit's mouth, and for a second, Angelus was caught between destroying this little piece of vermin that had crawled into his court and keeping him just to torture him more.

"Boss?" A voice called from the top of the stairs. "I’m sure he's not down there. We should go look on the fifth floor," Harmony was saying loudly. Angelus caught the faint answer. Ah, so his boy was up. Without a word to the rabbit, Angelus went up the stairs. Harmony was trying to shepherd Xander toward the stairs, and Angelus narrowed his eyes at the way the minion touched his Xander.

"Angelus!" Xander called out. He ducked around Harmony and headed straight for him. Angelus held out his arm, accepting his boy's hug. The smell was not of contentment, but it showed no sign of fear or misery, either. Time would prove to his boy that he could be content again. Until then, Angelus would simply have to play the game well enough to get his prize—a happy Xander. Unlike William, Angelus knew how to show patience in a hunt.

"M'fhear," Angelus greeted him. Leaning down, he sniffed at Xander's neck, and Xander tilted his head obligingly. Several of the minions went into gameface, their jealousy making Xander's blood even sweeter as Angelus slipped his fangs in for just a small taste. Licking the wound, Angelus leaned back to look at his boy. "You're still tired. Why are you awake?"

"You were gone." Xander shrugged, his face pinking and his smell starting to sour. Angelus frowned. He disliked his inability to understand Xander's shifting moods. He had hoped some sleep would make Xander less mercurial.

"I have to defend the clan," Angelus pointed out. While Xander might not appreciate the torture of a human, he would have to respect the need to defend one's territory.

"Defend us? From what?" Xander's misery faded, replaced with a sort of aggressiveness that Angelus had not yet smelled. Humans were so very interesting, and yet he had focused only on the terror the whole time he had been a fledge at Darla's side. He had been a fool. Darla had been the larger one for never teaching him the nuances of human pleasure.

"Angelus?" Xander asked, his head tilting in concern when Angelus didn't immediately answer.

"Wolfram and Hart," Angelus answered.

"The creepy little girl guys," Xander said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "What are they up to?"

"I don't know, but I will find out. I need to go out and see what schemes they are hatching. You stay here." Angelus looked around the room, evaluating the various minions with a glance. None of them appeared to have the audacity to challenge him by laying hands on his Xander. Angelus reveled in having such control over a court that he could trust a great prize in the middle of a nest of vipers and know that the vipers were too afraid of him to touch it.

"What?" Xander asked, incredulous. "No way."

Angelus frowned at Xander, catching him by the back of the neck and squeezing just hard enough to warn him to watch his mouth. Xander gasped, and misery leaked from him as he dropped his eyes down to the ground.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think," Xander said, gasping in little breaths that made him sound entirely too much like prey.

"Master, does that mean we can have the lawyer?" Harmony asked hopefully. Angelus sighed. He needed to find a majordomo so he could dust her, and he needed to do it soon.

"No." Angelus snapped. "Put him in the cell, and don't eat him."

Harmony huffed. "I know his name. It's rude to eat people when you know their names. I was only going to play with him. Lindsey's kinda cute, and it's not like you're paying a lot of attention to me, you know." Harmony gave another little huff and headed down the stairs. If Angelus were not concerned about other matters, he'd follow her just to rip the tongue from her mouth.

"She's trying to distract you," Xander whispered. He leaned in until his head rested against Angelus' chest. "I was stupid to say it like that, but if you're mad at her, you won't be mad at me. That's why she's being so Harmony-y."

Angelus frowned at that explanation. It suggested that Harmony had altruistic motives, which wasn't in the nature of a vampire.

"So, let me try this again," Xander kept talking before Angelus could object. His voice was a soft whisper and he kept his head tucked in close. "I know I'm not that strong. I mean, I'm strong compared to humans, but compared to most demons, I'm on the puny side of the scale. I get that. I've gotten that for a really long time now. But one of the reasons we kick so much ass is that I can do things you can't, like go in a house and invite you in or pick up a cross."

"I can pick up a cross," Angelus growled. He didn't like this conversation, and he didn't like that it had a certain logic to it. Xander had led the attack on the mayor, handling the first wave when the sun was still high enough to keep him locked inside and watching.

"Okay, I can pick up a cross without burning my hand, and if Wolfram and Hart have two active brain cells, they'll be ready with anti-vampire stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Sunlamps, crosses, houses you can't just walk into. Please, don't leave me behind worrying about you."

Angelus reached down and tilted Xander's head up with a finger under his chin. "You want to be my hunting partner?"

Xander didn't answer right away. He looked around and took a deep breath. "I don't want to help you hunt anything that isn't big and evil." He paused, his scent souring as he took another deep breath. "Honestly, you're going to be really mad at me when I say this, but I really would rather be dead that help you hunt people who aren't big and evil, but Wolfram and Hart is both, so can I just say I want to be your partner in this?"

Angelus stroked Xander's cheek. His boy was an endless source of surprise. "I will deal with these lawyers and whatever they plan to raise. I don't need your help in this m'fhear. Go back to bed." Xander took a deep breath, suddenly smelling even more weary than ever. He nodded and gave Angelus a small smile before he turned to head back toward the stairs. Right, now that Xander was settled, Angelus had to go deal with a meddling law firm.


	42. 42

Angelus turned the corner, watching the tail lights of the car fade into the night. Cars were so much more convenient than horses. He could follow the man who had approached Xander, and there were not nickering horses to betray him. Holland Manners. Angelus might not bother with the name of the little rabbit in the basement, but he would not soon forget the name Holland Manners, and that man would pay for interfering with Angelus' clan and frightening his Xander. Xander was not easily spooked, and the story of Holland and the girl with the power had clearly left him shaken and fearful. Someone would pay for that. Of course, Spike would be one person to pay for putting Xander in such a precarious position, but other blood would spill as well.

The road they were on was narrow, and Angelus slowed. He could smell power nearby, and the sound of the car in front of him ended. Clearly, they had reached their final location. Angelus slipped his car into park and sat, smelling the air and listening to the night. The air smelled of ash and marigold and power. Drusilla had always loved marigolds, picking them until her fingers stank of them and whispering that they made the stars sing brighter for her. Thank heavens the idiot soul hadn't chosen some car that would cut him off from his greatest assets. William's habit of smoking and playing music so loud that he muffled the very senses that offered him an advantage—it only proved his inferiority. However, there would be time to teach his boy that lesson.

Getting out, Angelus moved silently through the trees until he saw the small brick building. Magic crawled along the ground like fog, and something teased at the edges of his senses, distracting him. Shaking his head in frustration, Angelus allowed his demon to rise up. Moving around to a window, Angelus could hear Latin drifting through the air like a Catholic mass. With a smile, Angelus considered just how much he had enjoyed Catholic masses before the soul had taken over. Nuns made the most delicious treats with their pious belief and their prayers. The ones he liked most were the ones who died still praying, their blood sweet with hope even as they died a fool's death.

Angelus sighed. Of course, if he indulged in that little pleasure, his boy might find out. And from tonight's outburst, it was clear that his boy would not be able to hold his tongue. Clearly, he would have to give up that indulgence unless he wanted to lose the pleasures he'd found in his boy's willing body. And Xander would simply have to provide him with enough satisfaction to make it worth Angelus' sacrifice.

Pushing the corner of a window open, Angelus watched as Holland Manners and a woman stood to the side of a ceremony. Vampire dust swirled around a crate, and a masked demon read in a voice that grew louder as robed, human minions repeated his words. A burst of magic blossomed like night lilies that scented the air, and then the scent and the feel of magic skittering across his skin slowly faded.

"Is that it? Is it done?" Holland asked the masked demon.

"She has risen. The prophesy turns to our favor."

"As long as she gets the job done," the woman said in a rather dismissive tone. But then another figure came out of the shadows.

"I shall be her mummy. I shall sing to her when she sleeps and Angelus will be her daddy and my Spike will come spinning back to me." Drusilla spun, her arms thrown wide so that the hooded minions had to retreat from her path.

"I'm sure you'll be a wonderful mother, and we'll be here to support you every step of the way," Holland agreed.

Angelus glared as he realized that Drusilla had fallen for the soft words that had sent Xander running. Damn it. He would not have his clan or his childer manipulated by humans—not now—not ever. It was time for someone to die.

"Daddy, don't be cross," Drusilla sang, bringing her knuckles up to her temples and rocking back and forth. Luckily, Holland and the others were largely ignoring her as they gathered around the crate, using a crowbar to free one end. Angelus abandoned the window and moved around toward the door, pulling his sword out as he moved. The minions to the masked demon were coming out as Angelus turned the corner, and he swung—decapitating one and badly wounding the other in a single swing. The scream brought the masked demon out, a sword already half out of its scabbard.

"Angelus!" the masked one called out. "I am not your enemy."

"Then you should have stayed out of my clan business," Angelus countered as he brought the sword around in a swing that could take a man's head off. The demon brought his own sword up, and the two clashed with a loud ringing noise. The other demon was thrown against the wall of the building, and Angelus smiled at the apparent weakness.

"I am Voca, warrior of the underworld and the one who brings death to the Oracles that would enslave you."

"Then you killed prey that should have been mine," Angelus pointed out. He brought his sword up, but before he could bring it around, Voca struck with a foot, sending Angelus back several steps and forcing him to abandon his attack in order to regain his balance. Voca used the opening to throw something to the ground, and blackness filled the air so completely that Angelus couldn't see or hear or smell anything for the time it took for three human heartbeats, and then the darkness was gone along with Voca. Instead, Holland Manners stood in the open doorway. Drusilla was kneeling next to the injured assistant, drinking from him as he made a death mewl.

"Angelus!" Holland called out. "How wonderful to have you here for ceremony. Had I known you were interesting in coming, I would have invited you myself. Please, come in."

Angelus brought his sword up defensively. Like Xander, he suspected that Holland was not as affable or as harmless as he appeared. Unlike Xander, Angelus was perfectly willing to kill the man. Not even seemingly bothered by Angelus' aggressive stance, Holland smiled and backed up into the room.

"Daddy," Drusilla sang, her mouth bloody from her feeding. "I'll be the mummy now."

Angelus ignored her. He had learned years ago that he could never expected to understand her odd ramblings, so it was time for him to see just what Wolfram and Hart had been up to. Walking into the room, Angelus could see the impromptu pentagram etched into the floor and the open crate in the middle. The smell. He knew that smell. Bending over, Angelus looked at the miserable, shaking human crouched in the far corner of the crate.

"Angelus?" Darla called out weakly, and Angelus recoiled from the horror of seeing his sire reduced to this miserable lump of human flesh. She reached out for him, her hair streaked with sweat and her hand shaking. "Angelus, help me."

Instead, he stood and turned toward Holland and his female companion.

Holland gave an unctuous smile. "We were made aware of the fact that the soul that had wrongfully imprisoned you had summarily executed your sire. As a gesture of good, we went to a good deal of effort to bring her back. It's a family reunion of sorts... at least once you get young Spike back under control, and we have faith that you will be more than capable of that."

"Angelus, help me," the woman in the crate called. Angelus took another step back.

"I'll be your mummy. I'll make it all better," Drusilla said as she came in and went to her knees in front of the crate. "Come to mummy."

"Angelus!" The human called out to him, stinking of fear and need. She crawled to the edge of the crate and reached out for him. His sire had terrified him and taught him new and obscene pleasures. She'd tormented him and teased him until he'd laid in bed panting and sweating and limp. He had a thousand memories of his sire, but in none of them had she been weak and pathetic and so very human. Her very humanity disgusted him.

"I'll be the mummy and you'll be strong. You'll sing to the moon and stain it red with the blood of innocents." Drusilla knelt up and clapped her hands in joy. For a second, Angelus imagined what that would be like... to walk back to his lair with a sire returned to her full power and his favorite child at his side. This time, he was older—stronger. Darla would have to respect what he had done and the power he commanded within the demonic community. She would see that he was not some fledge to be abandoned when they were down to the last horse and the hunters were upon them. She would give him the respect he had earned by battling anyone who challenged him. He had led an attack on a necromancer and had claimed his treasure. He had wiped out three clans who had refused to bow to him.

Drusilla clapped again. "She'll eat the puppy and the moon will cry and we'll all dance under the stars." Darla was still looking around, confused, but Drusilla held out her hands, and Darla moved toward Drusilla. Angelus frowned at the mention of the puppy.

"Drusilla?" Darla asked quietly.

"Grandmother," Dru answered with a mindless smile. Then she went into her gameface and pulled Darla closer, burying her face in Darla's neck.

"This is a family moment. We should leave you do it," Holland Manners said with such oily sincerity that Angelus made up his mind to kill the man, not that he'd really had much doubt before.

"This is a family matter, and you shouldn't have been involved at all," Angelus corrected him, swinging his sword to the side to block Holland's retreat.

Holland held his hands up. "Now, there's no need for violence. We are both practical men with practical concerns, like how to defend our own positions."

Angelus smiled, an expression that often led to terror in humans. Although Holland only watched impassively, the female with him stank of terror now, and her eyes darted from Angelus to Holland and back. Perhaps she was starting to understand she had chosen the wrong champion to defend her. "You hope that by bringing her back, you can control me," Angelus said, his voice was mild, but for the first time, Holland actually reacted the way a human was supposed to—he paled.

"I would never—"

"Yes, you would," Angelus interrupted him, stalking closer. Holland backed up a step, and a click warned him a half second before sunlight shone down in a beam that encircled Holland, protecting him. Angelus snarled, but he had to fall back. High in the rafter, a squeak and the whine of machinery suggested that Holland had some sort of remote control devise hooked to a sunlamp.

"That won't protect you forever," Angelus warned. The female was now pressed close to Holland's side.

"I hope you'll come to see that we aren't enemies. Wolfram and Hart has a lot of respect for you, both for what you've done in the past and what you can do in the future. Bringing Darla back is simply a token of our esteem."

Angelus glanced over, and Drusilla was holding Darla to her breast—the smell of blood and magic heavy in the air. Darla would turn again. And unless she had changed, Drusilla was right—she would want to kill the puppy that Angelus had taken such a liking to. Darla had been ready to kill Drusilla until Angelus had shared her, offering his project up like a cat offers his owner the mouse he had hunted. Well, he was too old and too powerful to accept a sire in his life. Not after finally achieving the success he'd found, and he would not offer up Xander to be used and broken at his sire's knee.

Striding over, Angelus took Darla's limp and stinking body from Drusilla's arms. Dru frowned at him, cocking her head as though someone were whispering in her ear, and Angelus figured he had a limited amount of time before she started throwing one of her fits. With Darla's body in his arms, he turned to face Holland and his companion.

"If you want to show your esteem, then you ask how to please me." With that, Angelus ripped Darla's head from her body and allowed both to fall to the ground in a tangle heap of limbs and death.

Behind him, Drusilla started wailing. Holland took a step back, leaving the beam of light for a moment before he stepped back into it, clearly counting on the light to save him from Angelus' wrath. Angelus remembered his first day seeing the young fledge Drusilla had brought home. He'd held his hand in the sunbeam and let the pain wash through him as William watched, all awe and reverence. That one moment had spared William an early and dusty death, and William could certainly have told Holland just how much protection that light was not going to provide.

Angelus darted forward, hand outstretched. The light burned into his skin, and smoke rose from the flesh. However, that didn't stop Angelus from pulling Holland out of the light. The man gasped and grabbed for his pocket, but Angelus caught the arm and wrenched it up until the bone gave with a wet sounding snap. Holland screamed. Smiling at the sound, Angelus forced Holland to turn and then pulled him close so that Angelus could smell the terror and the power that clung to his skin.

The female called out Holland's name, but she didn't leave the light, and now she was clutching a cross to her chest as if that would protect her.

"I was to be her mummy. The stars promised!" Drusilla wailed.

"Your employer is going to die," Angelus told the female human calmly, breathing in the smell of prey like an elixir. "Whether you die depends on how you handle yourself in the next two minutes."

"Call for reinforcements," Holland gasped out. Angelus watched as the dark-haired woman's hand twitched toward her pocket, but then she stopped and looked at Angelus.

"Liliah, call!" Holland cried out, his voice finally reaching that perfect tone of desperation that Angelus loved to hear.

"Grandmother," Drusilla now crooned. She had Darla's decapitated head in her lap. Angelus cringed from the sight. Maybe he should have waited until the demon took hold so that Darla could return to the neat pile of dust he'd left her back in Sunnydale.

"The first rule," Angelus said, taking a moment to lick Holland's neck. The man gave a desperate attempt at battle, squirming deliciously in Angelus' grip. For a second, Angelus lost track of his words as he lost himself in the pleasure of the moment. The prey was helpless and suffering and yet the power rose like steam from his sweating body. The purity of a nun had never given him the pleasure that powerful prey gave him. Darla had always guided them to hunt in the alleys and bars—among those who were helpless and destitute. That was one more reason to send Darla back to hell because he would not give up this pleasure, not when he was already having to sacrifice others to keep his boy.

"The first rule?" Liliah prompted him. Angelus opened his eyes and considered her. She might make a good vampire—she certainly was keeping her cool and she seemed to know how to follow the strongest leader, and Holland and his increasingly weak struggles had lost her allegiance.

"You ask what I want or you risk displeasing me," Angelus said. He drove fangs deep into Holland's shoulder, feeling flesh and muscle rip under his rough treatment. Blood flowed into his mouth, and Angelus drank deeply, feeling the power of both human blood and latent magic ripple through him. Drusilla started sobbing as she sat on the floor, her dress bloody and her fingers stroking Darla's hair. Holland's heart slowed as Angelus fed until it finally stopped with one last thump. Angelus dropped the body and stepped over it, toward Liliah. She clutched the cross so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Angelus looked at it with amusement. "It won't save you," he pointed out. Liliah didn't answer, but she didn't let go of the cross either. Let her keep it; she was nothing more than a child clutching a security blanket and hoping it would keep the monsters away.

"Okay," Liliah said slowly. "If that's your first rule, why don't you tell me what you want?"

So, the little mouse had some balls. Angelus studied her, wondering how much he could trust Wolfram and Hart. Certainly, he wouldn't want them too involved in his business, but this situation might work to his advantage.

"Graham Miller."

"The soldier," Liliah immediately responded. Angelus narrowed his eyes in warning. If Wolfram and Hart wished to collect information on his, they had best do so without aggravating him. She paled, so hopefully she had received that message.

"He's gotten himself lost. Return him, in good condition and without harming anyone else and I may consider forgiving this blunder."

Liliah nodded. Angelus turned to leave, but she called out to him.

"And Lindsey?"

"Do you really care about him?"

"Not particularly," Liliah answered. "But the senior partners will want to know."

"Why?" Angelus waited to see if she would surrender the information or attempt to play some game with him.

"Like you, there is some reason to believe he may be a player in coming prophecy."

"The prophecy that is currently spinning out of your control?" Angelus asked. His boy had told him of the conversation with the various demons Spike had delivered him to. When Angelus got his hands on Spike, he was going to strip the skin from that boy's back and then pour holy water on the wounds for that failure to protect his sire's property.

"Yes, that prophecy," she agreed with a wry smile.

"Please me, and we might be able to discuss his future," Angelus offered.

"He's alive?"

"Until you disappoint me... perhaps even if you don't." Angelus shrugged; it made no difference to him whether a human lived or died. Turning, he left the space with the stench of cooling blood and death. Darla. He shook his head at the idiocy of that plan.

Angelus was crossing the space to the trees when Drusilla darted in front of him, her eyes up on the stars and her hands stained with Darla's blood.

"The puppy peed. I tried and I tried and I tried to clean it all up, but the yellow of it stains the world." She started moaning, her hands clutched to her ears as if the stars that were always whispering had begun to scream.

"Not in the mood, Dru," Angelus warned.

She looked down at him, her body swaying. "Bad puppy," she pouted. Pulling her hands over her cheeks, she left long streaks of red across her face.

"If you touch the puppy, I will punish you." Stepping forward, Angelus grabbed her by the arms and shook her. Her head flew back and forth and she laughed with wild abandon.

"Will you let the whip taste of my blood?" she asked when he finally finished shaking her.

"I'll let the minions taste of your blood," he threatened her, hoping that would reach what little sense of self preservation he had left her when he tore her sanity away.

"No!" she screeched as she flew away from him. "All wrong. Slipping, slipping away."

"Listen to me, Dru. I won't let anything that is mine slip away. If you threaten the court..."

"No. No court. Death. Death and the dark new life risen to father the beast." She fell to her knees and moaned as if mortally wounded. "Slipping away. Bad puppy. Little milk teeth chew the teat."

Angelus sighed. As much as he loved her adoration when she was sane, he had no interested in coaxing her out of her insanity right now. If Wolfram and Hart brought home his missing soldier, he had preparations to make. If they didn't... well, he would have to find a proper way to show his displeasure. He wondered whether Lindsey delivered in a number of small, wrapped packages was too pedestrian to make his point properly.

Turning his back on his still-moaning childe, Angelus headed for the car. If she recovered and presented herself at court, he would love to have his dark childe and her adoring eyes at his side again. But if she was not willing to recognize that he was the master and he did not follow her stars... well, she would be better off disappearing into some corner of the world far, far away from him. Her stars were in his past, and he was making his own future.


	43. 43

Xander sat up as a group of men, dirty and bloodied, walked into the lobby. Angelus was still muttering with one of the minions, but Xander was thinking that humans really shouldn't be coming into a vampire lair, not even one that had turned into the Grand Central Station of demons. Xander glanced up at Angelus, but he wasn't even twitching, and Xander so hoped he wasn't about to see a bloodbath. Angelus had either been freakily non-lethal or non-willing to kill in front of Xander, and honestly, Xander rather liked it that way. These guys were definitely going to ruin that trend, though.

The group had weapons slung over their shoulders, but none moved to draw one as they stepped into the lobby and stopped in front of the raised dias Angelus had set up for his throne. Xander gasped as he caught sight of a familiar face in the middle of the group. Angelus stopped and slowly turned to face the group. One word, and this was going to go so very, very badly. Xander got one leg under him and prepare to get the heck out of the way if a fight broke out.

"Master Angelus," the head of the armed group said, inclining his head in a deep half-bow. He gestured and the others in his group bowed even lower. All except the cuffed and bleeding man in the middle. "You had suggested you might be open to a trade, so Wolfram and Hart has sent a gift to open the negotiations." One of the soldiers dragged Graham to the front. His face was cut, and one sleeve of his shirt had been totally torn off, exposing a pretty nasty cut and what looked like rug burn, only the worst case Xander had ever seen. One of the soldiers brought a billy club down on the back of Graham's leg, and he fell forward to his knees. Other than a grunt, he didn't comment, but that must have hurt.

"If he's a gift, he's not a well cared for one," Angelus said, and he eyed Graham without showing any emotion. Xander held his breath, terrified of what Angelus might do, but even more terrified that Xander could say the wrong thing and make Angelus think that he had to kill Graham to keep Xander's loyalty or save face or something. Sometimes Angelus' demon logic was so demony that Xander couldn't even hope to follow it.

"He killed three of my men and put two more in the infirmary. He is as unbroken as we could get him." The leader of the group stepped forward so he was standing next to Graham, but Graham just stared forward at nothing in particular. Xander chewed his lip with worry. Where were Faith and Spike? No way would they just let someone take Graham. And why would Wolfram and Hart target Graham?

Angelus stood up and stepped down off the platform, stopping right in front of Graham. Graham didn't even twitch. "Remove the cuffs," Angelus ordered.

"Sir, I wouldn't suggest—" The commander stopped when Angelus reached over and snapped his neck without even looking. One of the soldiers near the back grabbed for his weapon, but the guy next to him caught his arm and kept him from doing it... which probably saved his life. Xander could see the demons shifting into offensive positions. These guys were about to be dinner.

"Do I have to ask again?" Angelus turned his gaze toward the soldier who had forced Graham to kneel.

"No, sir." He bent down and quickly uncuffed Graham, but Graham didn't even react—not that he could do much reacting with Angelus two inches away. "Compliments of Wolfram and Hart." The soldier backed away with another bow, and a hand gesture sent his troops edging awkwardly toward the door. They didn't even bother taking the dead commander who lay sprawled next to Graham.

"Toss this for the carrion eaters," Angelus said, kicking the body. It was Harmony who moved in to grab the body and pull it out of the way. Most minions tended to avoid Angelus right after he'd killed, but Harmony clearly wasn't bright enough to recognize his mood. Then again, she wasn't dead yet, either, and Xander had expected Harmony dust more than once. She got the body to the edge of the group of minions that always seemed to gather in the shadows and then a couple of them took it from her.

"Stand," Angelus ordered. Graham didn't even glance up. He simply stood and went to parade rest, his hands still behind his back. Xander held his breath and prayed that Angelus would take Graham's gesture as submission and that he didn't end up getting thrown out with the commander. Running a hand over Graham's chest, Angelus studied him. "Any broken bones?"

"No, sir."

"Internal injuries?"

Graham hesitated, and Angelus' hand paused, resting over Graham's hip. "Bruised kidneys, some pretty good bruising everywhere, but I've had worse."

"And yet you took out three of Wolfram and Hart's commando team. Maybe the time I spent training you wasn't a total waste." Angelus got a thoughtful expression on his face and then he turned and came back to his throne. Xander watched silently, wondering if Graham even understood what it meant that Angelus had just publicly claimed him... not claiming like for dinner but claimed as in told the whole court that he had trained Graham. "Did they take the slayer or that idiot childe of mine?"

"No, sir." Graham stared forward, but Xander figured he had to be putting off fear smell like mad because Angelus was breathing deeply, and he was pretty clearly enjoying whatever he was smelling.

"Since Faith has allowed her toy to wander, I'll have to make sure I take good care of it until she comes home," Angelus smiled, and Xander closed his eyes and leaned against Angelus' leg. Of course he would want Faith back. And sadly, Xander was guessing that part of Faith wanted to come back, so this would give her the perfect excuse. Xander was even guessing that Angelus cared about her in his own way. It's just that Angelus' way of caring about something was to own it and make sure he put it away where he wanted it, and Faith had spent way too many years getting treated like an object for that to be even a little bit healthy.

"Someone get Wesley." Angelus didn't even bother specifying a particular someone, but a minion broke off and darted back to the library. Graham just continued to stand at parade rest, not reacting when a minion started edging forward.

"Is that lawyer of theirs even alive?" Angelus asked the room.

"Yes, master. He offered me all sorts of stuff to try and get me to let him go," Harmony said with a cheerfulness that made other minions edge away from her, like they might catch her enthusiasm the way a human caught the flu. "Like I would ever pick him over you." Harmony rolled her eyes at that thought. "He's such an idiot, but he's a really cute idiot."

Angelus ignored her and watched as Wesley hurried into the room. "Did you bring it?"

"Yes, master," Wesley agreed, hurrying up to offer Angelus a small box.

"Will it work?"

"I tested it myself, master. It's fully effective with humans, and effective to a lesser extent with demons, although many demons are actually able to detach limbs, up to and including...." Wesley cut himself off when Angelus waved a hand at him. Wesley gave Xander a worried look, but there wasn't anything Xander could do, and Graham seemed to be avoiding looking at either of them. Angelus opened the box and took out a silver cuff that looked like a plain, wide bracelet.

"Here," Angelus said, throwing it at Graham. "Choose which arm will be disabled and burning with agony if you try and leave the hotel." Angelus watched with a sort of thinly veiled amusement as Graham looked at the thing he'd caught for just a second before snapping it shut over his right wrist.

"Your fighting arm?" Angelus tisked. "Never leave yourself vulnerable, Graham. I obviously didn't teach you well enough."

For the first time, Graham's gaze focused, and he looked at Angelus. "It serves as the stronger reminder that I'm not leaving this hotel on my own." For a second, the two looked at each other, and then Angelus laughed.

"Any human a slayer chooses as her own would have to have some fire. At least you know your place." Angelus leaned forward. "You do know your place, do you not, boy?"

Xander froze, every instinct warning him that this was about to turn so very, very ugly. The minions shifted, a couple practically squirming with anticipation. Graham bent his head forward. "Yes, master, I know my place, and it's where you tell me to be." He stood, the cuff on his wrist and his head ducked for long seconds. Angelus stood up and moved silently forward, his hand coming up to brush the curve of Graham's neck, but Graham stood still.

"Xander, tend his wounds. I don't like to see my toys so misused. In fact, I may need to go misuse Wolfram and Hart's lawyer to make a point about that."

"Yes, master," Xander agreed, hoping a little extra sucking up would put Angelus in a good mood. He moved toward Graham. Angelus waited as Xander came close, reaching up to cup Xander's face with his palm, and Xander smiled. This could have gone so much worse, and with every day, Xander could see Angelus struggle to recreate the formula that Angel had used to claim his family, his respect. Xander waited as Angelus ran a possessive hand over his shoulder and chest, and then Angelus turned and headed for the stairs to the basement. Xander knew that Lindsey had come here to betray Xander, and he still had to feel a little sympathy for the guy. If this didn't teach him the perils of working for evil people, nothing would, but then Xander didn't have a lot of room to preach on that front.

"Wow. You really got the snot kicked out of you," Xander said as he really got an up close look at Graham. Graham smiled, but one side of his mouth was swollen so it turned out crooked.

"You should see the other guys."

"I really should get some healing ointment. You're rather seriously injured," Wesley said softly. "Where do you plan to take him to clean up?"

Xander knew exactly where Angelus would want Graham. "Where he should have been the whole time—his room," Xander said. Wesley got a strange look on his face, but then he nodded, and hurried away. Carefully slipping an arm around Graham's waist, Xander tried to help him since he had developed a big limp on his left side.

Without warning, Harmony came up behind them and just lifted Graham into her arms and headed for the stairs. "Oh, I hope Angelus finds those guys and eats them. They shouldn't have hurt you like this, and where was Faith? Isn't her job to stop bad guys from doing things like beating up her boyfriend? You know, Buffy was the same way when she was dating Devon. She would act all concerned about him, but then when he got in trouble, she was all slay this, busy that. Only back then, she didn't so much let on that she was the slayer, so she had all these really stupid excuses, like studying for history, and trust me, Buffy never studied for history. Based on her school scores, she so could have been a cheerleader." Harmony headed up the stair while giving her running commentary, and Xander could only trot along after her, hoping she didn't bruise any of Graham's bruises. "And Angelus said you might be coming, so I changed all your sheets, but if you get in bed with all that blood, you are going to need new sheets for the new sheets, so you should probably clean up first. If you're feeling up to it. If not, I'll just change the sheets again tomorrow." And with that, Harmony reached the room Graham normally shared with Faith and carefully put him down by the door.

"Are you okay from here?" she asked, finally stopping long enough to actually listen.

"I'm fine, Harmony, thank you." Graham braced himself on the doorknob and kept his left foot off the ground.

"I just don't like to see you hurt." Harmony looked around like she was saying something dirty in the middle of church or something, but then for a demon, maybe she was. "I like you guys," she finally admitted.

"I like you, too," Graham said. "I was worried about you—so were Cordelia and Faith."

"Not Spike?" Harmony actually sounded upset at that.

"Spike's a little busy being angry at pretty much everyone, and since I got myself captured, I think he's probably added me to the list," Graham said in a stage whisper. That seemed to cheer Harmony up, and she smiled.

"I'm glad to see you get captured. Angelus would get cranky if you were gone too long." And with that, she leaned in and gave Graham a quick kiss on the cheek before she turned and hurried back down the hall.

Graham watched her go and shook his head. "Some things don't change."

"It would take more than death to change Harmony," Xander agreed. "Is everyone really okay?" Moving closer, he got his hand around Graham's waist again, supporting his weight before he opened the door to the suite.

"Relatively okay."

"Is Spike really mad at me?"

Graham stopped hopping for a second, forcing Xander to stop with him. "Spike is absolutely furious with you. He wants to lock you in a cage and put a leash on you. He also understands why you did it."

"Why I didn't use the soul spell or why I came back to Angelus?"

"Both," Graham said with a half shrug before he turned his attention back toward the bathroom. "I don't think I can get my clothes off on my own."

"Hey, as long as you don't mind the gay guy helping you get naked, I'm okay with that." Xander cringed. "That came out wrong."

Graham laughed. "It's just good to hear that you seem to be in one piece mentally as well as physically."

Xander maneuvered them into the bathroom and set Graham down on the toilet. "Angelus wants what Angel had, which means he wants all of us in place without any additional bats in the belfry. He did the crazy thing with Drusilla, and I'm not sure it worked out all that well for him."

"Well, I guess that means I made the right choice."

"What? In getting your ass kicked?" Xander asked. He knelt down to unlace Graham's boots so he could get them off without hurting the ankle any more than it had been.

"Faith and I talked about whether she wanted to come back. I offered to take a transfer to Outer Mongolia so she could come back without giving Angelus leverage to hold her here."

"Really?"

"Well, Paraguay, actually, but yes. Faith is a slayer, and that means she brings a certain prestige to the court, and has a certain level of protection from that. As a human, I know I don't."

"But Angelus would have wanted you back, anyway," Xander said.

"Which is why I'm starting to think that staying was the right choice, even if this is one hell of a mess. Angelus sent those guys after me, and I suspect he would have sent them to Paraguay it that's what it took." Graham hissed as Xander worked the boot off the swollen ankle.

"That must have hurt to walk on."

"Getting forced to my knees was a relief," Graham agreed. "But I wasn't going to let those assholes see pain."

"So, the others?" Xander asked. He pulled off Graham's right boot and then looked up. Graham's face was a mask of pure weariness.

"Angelus has good reason to be cheerful. He's flushed us out of a couple of lairs. Spike is fraying at the edges, Cordelia is worried, and Faith..." Graham closed his eyes for a second. "Faith is always going to love Angel above everyone else. He saved her. He was the first person to ever forgive her, and I have always understood and respected that. I wouldn't expect to replace him in her heart any more than I would expect another girl to stop loving her father because she fell in love with me. And as we've seen more and more evidence that Angelus has come back a little more sane than he was a century ago, she's been torn."

"She wants to come back," Xander said softly. He didn't know how to feel about that because Angelus wasn't Angel. Some of the words were the same and the touch was the same, but it wasn't Angel. Xander still loved him, but a part of him would always ache for the gentleness and the uncertainty and the inherent goodness that had died with Angel.

"She knows it won't be the same, but yes. Maybe part of it is that her demon has an allegiance here. Maybe Angelus' court politics and the fact that he seems to be making more trouble in the demonic world than the human one just makes it easier for her to believe he won't force her to be evil." Graham sighed. "The consensus is that you've really changed him, and that's made it easier for Faith to considering coming back."

"Me?" Xander looked up, shocked. "Okay, I'm not doing so much changing as I am doing sitting at his feet, and in his bed, and when he's out hunting things, hiding on the fifth floor and renovating the west wing."

Graham frowned. "Xander, he killed Darla."

"Um, duh, a long time ago," Xander answered. Angel had done that back before they were even friends.

Graham gave Xander a very odd look. "Wolfram and Hart brought her back about a week ago. They tried to recreate the old Scourge of Europe, and apparently Angelus killed Darla and drove Dru out of the country."

Xander's mouth fell open as he tried to come up with some sort of response to that. Angelus was all about the power, and the Scourge of Europe had been big with the power.

"Spike seems to think Angelus is a lot saner this time around—that's one reason why Faith was considering following your lead. I just thought if I wasn't here to use as leverage, she might find it easier to back here. I guess that's not an option." Graham fingered the silver cuff. "At least Angelus seems more interested in securing his own power than taking out any nunneries."

"He's not a fledge. If he wants to impress people with his big bad self, he's not going to pick on the sheep," Xander said. "Whatever made him hate the church before, maybe Father Peter made it better, not that I'm going to say that because I'm still not okay with his position on gays, and really, I don't want Angelus to even think about him. Getting a priest killed is an express train to hell, and I prefer the old fashioned steam engine train to hell I'm on, thank you." Xander gave a dark laugh. "He really killed Darla and sent Dru away?"

"Yep," Graham agreed. "Actually, the number of paranormal deaths has actually dropped, so personally, I think you made the right choice," Graham said. "Riley agrees."

"Riley? Riley and Buffy know?" Xander fell back against the vanity and slid to the floor. Okay, having your ex-best-friends know that you chose the bed of a serial killer. Not good.

Graham rested his injured arm on the counter. "We had good cause to believe Angelus went to Sunnydale, that he had a minion watching your mother's house. The oracles were manipulative, but they seemed to excel in manipulating the truth. We couldn't expose the group in Sunnydale to that danger without warning them."

"I know. I'm just... creeped out," Xander explained. "And worried. Buffy is not good when it comes to using logic around Angel. It's like she lost all logic when she started crushing on him, and when the crush was over, the logic never came back. She still blames Angel for letting Spike kill Kendra, but Graham, Spike was the master of the hellmouth. Angel was a guy living in a basement apartment drinking cow blood."

"So he couldn't have stopped Spike, I understand that."

"He really couldn’t have." Xander looked up at Graham and tried to find the right words to make him understand. "Angel was sweet and confused and kind, and maybe even a little nerdy because he really liked reading big boring books and drawing. He did not have a whole lot of big bad in him. When the big bad showed up, that was more Angelus, and back then, Angel was not really into channeling his inner Angelus. But Buffy still blamed him, like he could have stopped Spike. If anyone gets the blame, I do for not convincing Kendra that Spike was too dangerous." Xander ran his hand through his hair and wondered if that wasn't where things all started to get to very weird. When he was young, right was right and wrong was wrong, and now right and wrong were all kind of muddled together, and that did seem like the beginning of the whole moral slide into confusion.

"The blame goes to the watchers who convinced a child that she had to fight alone," Graham said firmly. "Xander, I hate to say this, but if you don't help me get these pants off, I'm going to end up peeing myself."

"Oh geez. Sorry." Xander got back up to his knees and helped Graham. Once the shirt was off, Xander could see the beginnings of a spectacular map of bruising. The cuts on his arm were the only bleeding wounds, but he had several places with deep puncture marks surrounded by red swelling. Xander reached up to trace one. "Ow," he said sympathetically. "Were the others hurt?"

"Blair and I were out getting supplies. The goons were targeting me, so I ordered him to run like hell. If he did get hurt, I'm going to make him do pushups until his arms fall off for not following orders."

"What did this?" Xander asked, feeling the swelling like a giant bee sting just under the skin.

"Tazers. Hurt like hell. Actually, all of me hurts like hell. I probably fucked up the ankle even worse walking on it, but I wasn't about to let them see me limp. And here I thought I was above acting like some macho idiot." Graham laughed as he leaned forward, resting his weight on Xander's shoulders. Pulling his thoughts away from the horrors laid out on Graham's skin, Xander focused on getting Graham's pants off.

"Oh shit."

"I seriously hope you're commenting on my hip and not the size of my equipment, there," Graham joked.

"What the hell happened?" Xander asked. He ran his fingers over the skin above Graham's hip, and it was hot and swollen and red.

"One of the soldiers decided to kick the shit out of me for shooting his friend. His friend is still dead though." Graham sounded grimly pleased about that.

"You win on the hiding the injuries prize. You do know Angelus is going to be pissed you hid all this, right?" Xander asked. Graham settled back down onto the toilet, and Xander pulled his jeans the rest of the way off.

Graham sighed as he pushed his cock down toward the toilet, but he didn't pee right away. "Angelus ran his hand right over it. I think he already knows just how bruised I am. I just hope Wesley has something that can help or I'm going to be totally immobilized tomorrow." With a grunt and a grimace, Graham started to pee.

"Hurt?" Xander guessed.

"Like I'm peeing fire," Graham agreed, his voice tight. Xander moved to the bathtub and started warm water running. Angelus wanted all his toys back in place, but he would never understand why he had done something horrible by sending Wolfram and Hart after Graham. Angel never would have put Graham in that much danger, and Xander felt a wave of grief roll through him. Sometimes he thought his head was going to come apart from loving and grieving so much at the same time. And the sad thing was that he did love Angelus who was, in his own demony way, trying so hard to protect and reunite his family.

"Should I come back later?" Wesley asked from the door.

"Do you have medicine?" Graham asked.

"Yes, a drink and some salve that should aid healing."

"Then come on in. The more the merrier."

"Yes, but you're..."

"Naked," Graham finished for him. "And I'm going to stay that way because anything I put on now would just aggravate the swelling. So, can I drink that?"

Xander watched while Wesley inched into the room staring off at the wall while he held a cup out blindly. The cup was too far away, so Xander stood up and took it from Wesley before handing it over.

"Thank you," Graham said before he drank it.

"The salve should go on after the wound is cleaned. Otherwise, the skin could knit over any contamination, which would encourage infection." Wesley now studied the pattern on the towels.

"Right, so it's time for the bath," Xander said with as much cheerfulness as he could manage.

"Just give me a hand. If I lose my balance and go down now, Harmony is going to have to get me off the floor, and that really would be embarrassing," Graham said. Xander braced himself on the counter and offered Graham his shoulder. "Wesley, I went through years of military life and shared showers. I’m not going to get embarrassed by someone looking at me naked."

"And I attended boys' school which, might I say, was not nearly as morally upstanding as you Yanks assume. However, that does not mean I feel a need to invade your privacy," Wesley said without taking his eyes off the towels. "How serious is the bruising? I would prepare another potion that would heal, but I fear the acceleration of the healing would cause some discomfort."

"I can live with discomfort." Graham asked as he finally settled himself in the tub. "It's better than being crippled, so yeah, maybe you should get some of that."

"Graham." Wesley turned and looked Graham in the face. "I do apologize for the restraint. Had I any idea that he planned to use it on you, I would have attempted to incorporate some sort of failsafe." Wesley's gaze flicked down to the bracelet before he looked up at Graham's face again.

"Don't worry about it." Graham turned the cuff around on his arm, twirling it. "He would have found some other way to keep me in the hotel, and at least he didn't put me on a leash the way Spike threatened to leash Xander if he ever got his hands on him again."

"Great," Xander said with an eyeroll. Knowing Spike, that wasn't so much of a threat as a prediction of the future.

"Hey, I think you'd look cute leashed," Graham joked.

"How can you make jests about this?" Wesley demanded, his voice getting all high and tight.

Graham shrugged. "Because we're here and there's not much else we can do."

For long seconds, the two men looked at each other, and Xander really didn't have much of anything to say. He'd tried talking to Wesley, but they hadn't really been friends before, and now the awkward just sort of multiplied when they tried to talk. Xander suspected that his own guilt made it a little harder for him to really deal with people now... that and he was slightly totally terrified that Angelus would see any friendship as a reason to get jealous. Xander didn't think Wesley would survive a jealous Angelus.

"Yes, well, I'll go retrieve that potion," Wesley said, turning and leaving without any other comment.

Graham sighed and started gingerly rinsing his cut arm. Pink stained the water as he worked. "His head is going to pop like a tick if he can't learn to roll with the punches."

"These are not easy punches to roll with," Xander offered. He leaned back against the counter, wondering if he shouldn't give Graham a little privacy. Angelus would not exactly be happy if he walked in on this scene. But Angelus wouldn't be happy if Xander left Graham and Graham took a nose dive onto the tile floor, either.

"Are you okay?" Graham asked. Xander looked up to find Graham staring at him. "You're the one this is hardest on. Are you okay?"

Xander opened his mouth to say he was fine, but something else slipped out. "I miss him," Xander confessed in a whisper.

Graham nodded. "I remember when I lost my parents. I've taken some serious injuries in my life, but nothing ever hurt like that. Nothing ever will, except maybe if I lost Faith. But are you okay with Angelus?"

Xander blinked, ordering himself to just not get tangled up in all of the stupid stuff he couldn't change. "Better than I expected, actually. Hey, I'm not dead—that's a bonus. And Angelus is actually really good at sex. I kinda don't mind that part."

"That's good." Graham sighed and let the washcloth slip into the pink water. "Xander, rescue isn't coming for us."

Xander frowned. That had come out of nowhere. "I didn't expect rescue. I kinda expected that I'd get vamped and someone might stake me, but I didn't expect rescue. Spike knows better."

Graham laughed. "Yeah, Spike does. Besides, you're probably safer with Angelus considering how angry he is. I actually meant Riley and Buffy. When we called them, Wesley had already sent an email saying that you had come here voluntarily. They wanted to stage a rescue, and I told Riley that this was your choice and that there were no extenuating circumstances that would warrant military involvement."

Raising an eyebrow, Xander studied Graham. "You don't really think that worked on Buffy, do you?" he asked. "I kinda assumed Buffy would pretty much write me off as the biggest loser in Loserville for surrendering, but if she wanted to come, your little speech about extenuating circumstances is not going to stop her."

Graham looked over. "I told her that she had never understood your relationship with any of your family—and that Angelus was still your family— and that if she got involved here, she would not only destroy any friendship between you, but that she would probably destroy you."

Xander cringed. "Okay, that was not a pleasant conversation. I love Buffy, but she is not good at hearing what she doesn't want to hear."

With a shrug, Graham picked up the washcloth and stared on his other arm. "She didn't like it at all. It was also true. That's when Riley told me that if I wanted out, I had to take the transfer to South America or he couldn't take the security risk. He'd cut off all security clearances and cancel any active codewords I had access to."

"So, he left you out to dry," Xander summarized. Suddenly, he didn't like Riley nearly as much anymore.

"He let me make my choice, and I chose to stay with Faith," Graham corrected him. "Riley made the right call, but it means that I don't expect anyone to come for either of us."

"Except Faith," Xander said.

"Except Faith," Graham agreed. "I just really hope that you're right about Angelus wanting everyone back because once he has her, I can't help but worry that I'm a little unnecessary around here." Graham fingered the cuff. For the first time, Xander saw just how much worry and stress Graham was hiding under his soldier face. Maybe Xander was petty and small, but it actually made him feel better that someone else was feeling off balance—like he'd made a huge mistake, but he couldn't figure out what other mistake to make that would have been a smaller mistake. Xander was quickly coming to the conclusion there was no such thing as a right decision in all this mess, but maybe just lesser wrongs.

"Did Angelus really send them to capture you?"

"I think so. They complained about not being able to kill me."

"Then Angelus wants you and will keep you around," Xander said confidently. "In the past, his standard M.O. for screwing with someone's head was to kill a loved one and then let the person stew in their own grief. If he wanted Faith dead or just captive, he'd kill you and leave her all off-balance. If he wants Faith back in the family, then he wants her to see she can have what she used to have, only she has to come back to him. He's not going to like that she chose to leave, though. There may be some punishment involved that you're not going to like," Xander warned.

"He didn't punish me for leaving," Graham pointed out. "At least, not past what the goons did."

"But you're a human," Xander pointed out. "You're a toy, a possession. You don't punish your favorite toy for getting stolen, you punish the person who did the stealing, and Faith has enough status in the court that he may blame her for not having her loyalties straight."

For a long time, Graham stared at Xander like Xander had said something particularly sad. Then the moment passed. "Hey, help me wash off my back, here. I'm not exactly flexible tonight, and I want to get in that bed before all the joints stiffen up."

Xander nodded and came over to help Graham wash the dirt and blood off. From the looks of it, he hadn't bathed in several days, and Xander tried really hard to not think about Blair and Spike and Cordelia and Faith. Angelus had them running, and Xander couldn't do a damn thing to help any of them. He could only help Graham get cleaned up and then help him into bed.


	44. 44

Graham woke dizzy and disoriented and hungrier than he ever had been in his entire life. The room was dark except for the light spilling in from the bathroom, and for a half-second, he couldn't figure out where Faith had gone. During the day, she was all armor and brass, but at night, she was the sort to lay in his arms, silent and just needing. She never left the bed before he got up. The memories came back slowly.

"God, Faith, I'm so sorry," Graham whispered to no one in particular. He'd tried hard to not object when she'd confessed that she'd considered coming back to Angelus, and he would have supported that decision. He'd never wanted to back her into a corner, and now he was helping Angelus force her to come back or live with his death on her head. Graham fingered the cuff. He could treat it as a prisoner of war situation, but that would probably hit all the wrong notes with Angelus, and if Xander was right, Graham was going to be living in the vamp's house for a lot of years. It wasn't time to start pissing him off yet.

Graham swung his legs off the side of the bed and noticed a tray on the chair. A hardboiled egg and cut fruits and cheeses and crackers and a pink napkin cut into a heart waited for him. "Harmony," Graham sighed. Well, if Harmony and Spike could embrace their inner human, maybe Angelus could, too. At this point, Graham couldn't figure out any other solution to their mess. He certainly hadn't liked what he'd seen with Xander. No one could think of themselves as an object to be owned without suffering long term psychological consequences. And sadly, Graham doubted that either Xander or Angelus saw the danger in that. Graham could only hope that the sadness and despair clinging to Xander were his form of grieving for Angel's loss, and not the signs of damage already done.

Grabbing some melon, Graham ate and toured the room. His Queen CD and his picture of his parents still sat on the dresser. A bill from his credit card company was waiting for him to pay it, and Graham wondered what the vampire etiquette was on having your little human pets pay bills. Well, if Spike was right, Angelus was learning some new tricks by keeping a traditional court, and if he was willing to learn new tricks, Graham would take a shot at teaching one or two. It was time to establish a few norms and mores in this newly forming group. He sure as hell wasn't going to sit back while Xander lost every bit of self confidence he once had or while Faith was ripped apart by her need to love someone who saw her as a playtoy.

His clothes were still in the closet, and Graham checked the upper shelf where he kept his weapons. They were all still in place. After a second's hesitation, Graham took a large knife and a stake down. If he pushed too far, Angelus would probably rape or beat him, but Graham figured he could live with that a lot easier than he could live with letting Xander and Wesley and Faith end up emotionally damaged.

After a shower, Graham finished his breakfast and headed out the door. Angelus' door was closed, so Graham headed down to the kitchen, his tray in hand. Graham didn't even think about any danger until he turned the corner out of the family wing and reached the balcony that ran along the second story overlooking the lobby. Shivers went up Graham's spine as he looked at the demons gathered in little corners. Most were vampires, but a few had unfamiliar ridges or limbs. A thing with tentacles for fingers came out one of the other hallways and stared at Graham for a long time. Graham stared back, his fingers tight on the edge of the tray.

With an opening and closing of his slitted nostrils, the demon turned toward the stairs and headed down. Graham now understood why Wesley was so jumpy. This was definitely not feeling like a safe place for a human to hang out. Then again, Graham had been 150 pounds of skinny and a bad attitude when he'd joined the army, and he'd survived that. Not by much, but he had. He could do this.

Graham headed down the stairs not far behind the tentacle guy. A minion flashed into gameface and snarled at him from the far side of the room, but that didn't bother Graham. He'd killed enough minions to know their weaknesses, and they had plenty. It took a master vampire to control the demon's instincts well enough to become a true danger in a fight.

"Graham!" Harmony called out. "Wow. You healed up nice. Did you like my heart?"

"I loved it. It was nice to know someone missed me," Graham said, well aware of the odd looks they were getting from most of the minions.

"You didn’t have to bring that down. I would have come for it, unless you're still hungry. I can get you more." Harmony reached out and took the tray from him.

"I'm actually good. I just thought I would see what you had going on down here. There's not much to do in the room." Graham watched as Harmony twitched, not sure what to say to that. Clearly Wesley and Xander weren't trying to find any sort of normalcy in the middle of the madhouse, and that wasn't healthy. "Is Xander around or is he at school?" While Graham didn't have a lot of illusions about Xander going to school—he didn't even particularly think Xander should be going to school until he'd had time to mourn—however, he wanted to start planting the seed of the idea. If Angelus wanted what Angel had built, that meant he needed to give his family the freedoms Angel had.

"He's working on the fifth floor. He has a thing going with wood and chisels and he gets really cranky when people interrupt him," Harmony finally offered. "You could visit Wesley." She said that with the same cheerfulness that she always used, but there was an edge to it. Either Xander needed privacy up on the fifth floor, probably to cry, or Wesley needed some human company. Graham didn't understand it, but Harmony did have an odd knack for knowing what people wanted... or maybe just for what they needed. Either way, he was going to have to trust her instincts on this one.

"So, Wesley it is. Has he had breakfast?"

"It's actually past lunchtime," Harmony said, leaning in to whisper. "You slept a night and a day, and you're working on the next night. You were really out of it there for a while."

Graham blinked in shock. "I was? Did anything happen?"

Harmony shrugged. "The master threatened to eviscerate Wesley if one of his potions killed you. You were screaming like it might. And then he went down and made the Wolfram and Hart lawyer scream. People are a little on edge, and Xander was crying. And then Angelus said to leave you alone and that if anyone woke you up, he was using them for target practice."

"Oh." Graham had no idea what to say to that.

"I changed your sheets the second you... you know...." She wrinkled her nose. "Made a mess. So, I don't think your mattress needs to be replaced or anything," she said with total sincerity.

"Thank you, Harmony," Graham said. Her face lit with a smile.

"You're welcome," she answered grandly. Graham's grandmother would have said that the girl looked pleased as peaches, not that Graham had ever understood exactly what that meant, but Harmony certainly looked pleased. "Wesley's in his office, and I have like so much work to do I'm going to have to threaten a half dozen minions just to get all done." And with that Harmony gave her head just enough of a flick to toss her hair around and then she turned and headed toward the kitchen.

"Hey," Graham said to a minion that happened to be staring at him. The vampire went into gameface and snarled. "Your fly's open," Graham said as he walked past. If he was guessing right, no one would touch him for fear of pissing off Angelus. Besides, he'd been training with Spike long enough that a minion didn't exactly inspire fear anymore. It did, however, leave Graham with an overwhelming urge to poke it, and he wasn't going to deny himself that pleasure until Angelus specifically ordered him to. It was time for someone to test the length of the leashes they were all on. Given time, Xander would do it for himself, but right now, he clearly wasn't thinking straight, and Graham still didn't know Wesley well enough to know how he would react.

The short hall that led to the library was quiet, and the library door stood open. "Hey," Graham said from the doorway. Wesley had been bent over a cluttered desk, and he gasped as he jerked upright in surprise.

"Oh. Graham. Thank god you're awake. Are you feeling alright?" Wesley stood up. "I assure you—I researched and tested that potion on myself, and I never had any sort of side effect, so I am truly sorry if my ignorance led to any sort of discomfort."

"Hey, I'm fine. I was actually coming down here to thank you for the potion because that would have been a long and painful recovery without it. I don't actually remember it hurting at all."

"Thank god for that." Wesley dropped back down into the seat. The whole time, Wesley had been slipping them reports through the computer, so Graham had known that Xander was alive and well and had surrendered. He knew that Angelus had carried out raids against other vampire lairs, the watcher team, and a few demon clans. Wesley had somehow failed to mention that he was falling apart. Deep circles under his eyes suggested he wasn't sleeping much, and his hand shook as it rested on the desk.

The desk was covered in research material and the couch had a pillow and blanket that suggested he was sleeping in the room. And even odder, there was a pink fuzzy stuffed unicorn sitting in the corner. Maybe Graham stared at it too long, because Wesley noticed.

"Clearly that is not mine. Apparently Harmony's sense of style offended some of the others and a few of her things migrated into this room. She comes in here to visit them." Wesley took his glasses off and carefully set them on a stack of books. "Not that I mind the company. Sometimes it's hard to remember she is a vampire."

"She's unique," Graham agreed. "So, I would ask how you've been, but I think I can guess the answer."

Wesley looked up with a weary sigh. "Compared to how I might be, I consider this quite the lap of luxury. At least I will never be bored. I fear I may never complete the never-ending tasks to which Angelus assigns me, but at least he has not yet shown any inclination to beat me for my tardiness."

"Wes, there are a lot of things I might call you, including clumsy, but I would never call you tardy with your work."

"Yes, thank you for that reminder of my faults. I really should get back to work." Wesley took the glasses from the stack and set them back in place.

"How long have you been hunched over that desk?" Graham asked. Wesley just glared up at him. "Seriously, Wesley, you're a little young for a hunchback."

"While I appreciate your attempt at completely puerile, inappropriate humor, I do have work," Wesley said primly. Geez, if Xander had tried to get Wesley out of his shell, that would have been enough to send him running. Graham, however, had an agenda and a much longer history of pissing people off. Besides, he wasn't mourning the loss of a lover and trying to deal with having the lover's body still walking and talking. That would screw with anyone's head.

"So, did Angelus order you to work nonstop?"

"He hardly need—"

"Did he order you to stay in this room?"

"No. However—"

"Then we're going on a little field trip." Graham walked over and grabbed Wesley's arm, pulling him out of his chair even as Wesley spluttered and gasped.

"I don't know what you're thinking," Wesley started complaining loudly, but as they left the library, Wesley fell silent and seemed to shrink in on himself. Human beings couldn't survive this level of terror, so it was time for Graham to have a little intervention. If this was going to get ugly, he would rather have the ugly over before Faith showed up. A minion growled at them, and Graham ignored it, but he could hear Wesley's gasp. That was clearly acting like catnip for the kitties because minions started shifting in the shadows as Graham came out into the lobby.

"We can't leave," Wesley hissed in a whisper loud enough that everyone would be able to hear.

"I wasn't planning to. However, the last time I saw you, I promised to give you a lesson in not falling down when fighting. Remember the fight with the Vigories?"

"The Vigories?" Wesley echoed, sounding more confused than ever.

"You tripped Xander in the middle of the fight."

"Not intentionally." Wesley sounded indignant now.

"I never thought it was intentional, but you have got to work on your fighting skills." Graham ignored the minions and demons gathering in the shadows, but Wesley's eyes kept darting to them.

"I'm not a fighter."

"You could be, though," Graham pointed out. Wesley had some nice moves, and every once in a while, Graham saw flashes of some pretty advanced martial arts training... right before Wesley lost his cool and went down in a tangle of limbs after someone shouted 'boo' at him. "You need to focus on the fight in front of you," Graham said, darting in to tap Wesley on the chest. It was a move easily countered, and Graham suspected that Wesley knew several options for countering it.

"Stop it," Wesley complained. Several minions snickered, and Graham could see Wesley's ears start to turn pink.

"Do you know the gojūshiho kata?" Graham asked. The glare he got in return was pretty much an answer, but Graham preferred an annoyed Wesley to a cowed and terrified one.

"I am trained in a wide range of martial arts. One of my duties was to train and oversee the development of the slayers to whom I was assigned."

"Well then, let's see." Graham fell into a formal attack pose.

Wesley glared at him.

"I'm going to hit you in about three seconds, so if you start your kata and block it, good. If not, I'll just hit you," Graham warned. "Three... two... one." Graham reached out, and Wesley easily knocked his hand away. Graham followed up with another slow strike that matched the kata's form, and Wesley moved into a smooth block.

"Really, this is quite pointless," Wesley complained.

"Then let's take it up a notch. The next hit Graham sent out, he put a lot more fire behind the hit, and Wesley easily blocked the strike, pushing Graham's arm away to the side in a way that opened up a vulnerability in Graham's defenses. Wesley glanced that way, telegraphing an attack, but then he pulled back.

"Wes, that was a perfect setup. Come on." Graham sent another series of hits Wesley's way, and he blocked them while moving back.

"I really don't think this is advisable."

"It's this or aerobics because you are too young for a hunchback," Graham countered, and then he sent a kick Wesley's way. This time, a minion hissed, and Wesley looked toward the minion instead of toward Graham, and Graham connected with Wesley's thigh, sending him stumbling back. Several minions chuckled.

"I have work," Wesley said, straightening up so much that he looked like he had a stick up his ass.

"Wesley," Graham sighed.

"Hey, Wes!" Xander called from the stairs. Graham was not surprised to see Harmony three steps behind. Whether she'd gotten Xander because she was afraid Graham was going to get in trouble with Angelus or because she was trying to back up Graham's play to get a little normalcy in the clan—that he had no idea. But he wasn't surprised that Harmony realized that Xander needed to be in the middle of this.

"Xander," Wesley said with a sigh that made it pretty clear he wasn't all that thrilled to see him. For a second, Xander paused on the steps, a frown making it pretty clear that he was on the verge of a brood.

"Hey, Xander!" Graham called out, "we're having a little impromptu training session. Get your butt down here and let's see if you can still kick my ass."

Xander snorted. "Hey, I enjoyed that ass-kicking period while it lasted, but you caught up with me on that front months ago. Of course, some of us have lives that don't include training pretty much 24/7."

"What can I say?" Graham shrugged. "It was killing my ego to have a kid straight out of high school kick my ass. You should have to go through marine boot camp before you can do that. But I'm a little out of practice, let's see how you do."

Harmony headed over and caught Wesley's arm as he tried to retreat. "Oh! They're going to spar. I hope they sweat. They're both really cute when they sweat, and not all men are. Larry was always sort of clammy looking when he got sweaty at football practice, and I thought it was because he was gay and maybe gay men didn't sweat well, but Xander's about as gay as a guy can get, and he sweats great." Harmony gave Xander a little wave like she was encouraging him to sweat. Graham looked over at Xander and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"Whoever turned her forgot to put a demon in," Xander whispered. Graham didn't answer, but he was pretty much thinking the same thing. He knew she fed on humans when she'd lived at the suckhouse, but she'd never killed and she'd been on bagged blood since moving in with Angel. Graham really had no idea how she was managing to feed now because the idea of Harmony actually killing someone didn't seem very plausible.

"You ready?" Graham asked with a wicked smile.

"No, but you'll get some nasty bruises before I'll go down," Xander warned. Graham laughed. He knew drill sergeants that would have killed to have a recruit with half Xander's heart. Graham started with a simple attack, and Xander danced to the side in a move so close to one of Spike's offbeat attacks that Graham could almost believe Xander was channeling Spike. That move would have taken most humans, but Graham did a diving roll toward Xander before he had a chance to follow up. He still got a nasty hit on the shoulder, but he counter-attacked with a sweeping leg. Xander almost jumped it, but one foot caught on Graham's leg, and Xander went stumbling back.

That gave Graham time to get back on his feet and study Xander. He looked more relaxed now. Sometimes you just had to let your body do something familiar. With a smile, Xander started the second attack, darting in to feign a punch only to throw out a nasty kick. Graham blocked both and countered with a hit that Xander blocked before Xander got in a good kick to Graham's hip. If Wesley's potion hadn't work so well, that would have been a problem, but on a healthy hip, it was little more than a sting.

"Aim lower to disable an attacker," Graham advised him.

"I don't actually want to disable you, and that's a good way to break someone's leg," Xander pointed out.

"I think I can take care of myself," Graham countered. He hadn't even finished his sentence before Xander launched a sneak attack. For several minutes, it took all of Graham's concentration to counter Xander's flurry of moves, but the same attack that left him scrambling, left Xander gulping in air. Graham allowed Xander to tire himself out before he counter-attacked with a series of punches that left Xander retreating. They ended up traveling the length of the lobby before the stopped, both breathing hard.

Harmony clapped as fast as she could, almost bouncing. Graham half expected her to break into a cheer.

"I should go back," Wesley said, backing up until Harmony caught his arm again.

"Hey, Wes, I'll take you on!" Xander said brightly. The tone was strained, but maybe he had finally noticed that Wes was a little too withdrawn. Graham figured Xander was one of those people who did better with other people's issues than his own, but he'd been hiding in Angelus' room and mourning his own loss for too long.

"I don't think...."

"Will you teach me that?" Harmony asked. For a second, Xander stared at her, and Graham could pretty well figure out what that was about. Graham had learned a long time ago that his mother's advice about never hitting a woman just didn't sit well with the kind of women you met in covert ops. However, Harmony was definitely the kind of woman who you really just didn't want to hit... not even when she was already dead.

"Hey, Wesley, we can try out a few of the dirty moves your watcher training never taught you. I think I learned as much about fighting from bars than I did from formal classes." Graham motioned for Wesley to come over. Wesley was watching the minions, but at least he did slide closer to Graham. Meanwhile, Xander was facing off against Harmony who looked like she was trying to belly dance, her hands held all the way out in front of her. Wesley stopped to stare, and Graham did too. Heck, even Xander was looking at her with dismay, like he wasn't quite sure how to handle this sort of attack.

"Okay, ready," Harmony said, inching forward toward Xander, hands still out. Xander looked over at Graham with an expression that clearly begged for help, but Graham held his hands out in surrender because there was no way he was hitting Harmony. His grandmother would come back from the dead and slap him silly. Xander looked back with a mild expression of panic before he reached out and basically slapped one of her hands. Harmony exploded into movement, but it wasn't any sort of fighting Graham had ever seen. She held her head back and then slapped as hard and as fast as she could. She actually looked like a five year old trying to splash in the pool.

"Good lord," Wesley said softly, and for the first time since all this started, he actually smiled.

"That's one way to put it," Graham said, and then he couldn't help himself—he started laughing. Wesley held out for about two second after that, and then Xander started laughing, which did not help his defensive strategy at all. Harmony kept flailing and inching forward, her eyes tightly closed, and what had started as a series of blocks on Xander's side deteriorated into counter-slapping as he tried to retreat and laugh himself stupid at the same time. Eventually Xander's back hit the far wall.

"Uncle!" Xander called out, his face red with laughter. Harmony opened her eyes.

"I won?" she asked brightly.

"The master should stake her," a minion behind Graham hissed. Graham could see Wesley tense up, and Graham took his stake out and drove it into the minion's heart, turning it to dust which exploded.

"I keep reminding myself to get eye drops at the store, and I keep forgetting," Graham said, waving his hand in front of his face to clear the ash. Wesley was staring at him in horror, but Graham was not going to live his life in fear of minions, and if he had to stake one to prove it, he was okay with that too.

"I see you're awake," a new voice commented from the door. Graham looked over to see Angelus standing there, his hand on the hilt of his sword.


	45. 45

Xander looked over, and the joy of just moment ago faded as worry settled in. He didn't want Graham hurt for staking the vampire, but it must have said something pretty bad to make Graham strike out like that. Angelus looked around the room for a second, taking in everyone's position. Harmony quickly moved away from Xander, and Wesley retreated to a position behind Graham.

"About the vampire," Graham started to say.

"That's what happens to a minion that doesn't know its place," Angelus said, holding out a hand toward Xander. Xander breathed a sigh of relief, the joy returning as the relief washed through him. "That was not your finest moment of fighting," Angelus said. He gave Harmony an unhappy look, but when Xander reached Angelus' side, he poked him in the stomach.

"Nope, but it was fun." Angelus looked down at Xander with an expression of such fondness that Xander could almost pretend it was Angel, even if that was so totally not mentally healthy. "Graham was working out with me, and we just thought Wesley and Harmony could use some practice."

Angelus looked over. "Wesley? Are you so short of work that you have to find ways to amuse yourself?" Xander held his breath. This had been going so well, and now Wesley was going to suffer for it, and if Xander could take Angelus' anger on himself, he would, but he didn't know how without just making things worse.

"No, master," Wesley offered, looking like he was ready to curl in on himself.

"I brought him out here," Graham said. He stepped forward and tucked his stake into the back of his pants. "Humans need a little more practice time than vampires if they don't want to end up easy prey."

Angelus looked at Graham, and that was so not a good expression. Xander was going to pass out from holding his breath this much. Angelus glanced down, and now Xander was getting the unhappy look from Angelus. "Do you think I can't defend him?" Angelus finally asked Graham.

"No." Graham shook his head. "But I think that if he goes out for supplies at noon, he'd better be able to take care of himself. I'm certainly not going to be making any supply runs." Graham held up his right hand with his cuff.

"Give me the weapon," Angelus said, holding his hand out. Graham pulled out his stake and walked over to Angelus. Xander could hear the minions shift nervously as Graham approached, but Graham put the stake in Angelus' hand and went to parade rest. Angelus fingered the stake, testing its weight, and then in a move so fast that Xander could follow it, he launched it at the far side of the room. Xander gasped, his first thought that Angelus dusted Harmony. But Harmony was still standing there, her mouth a wide O of surprise.

Angelus frowned at Xander again. Then he turned to the court as a whole. "I decide who in the court deserves to be staked, and if I find anyone else having that discussion, you'll be lucky if I only stake you or have Graham end your miserable unlife for you." Angelus turned toward Graham, and Xander could see his own shock reflected in Graham's face. With one arm still around Xander, Angelus reached out with his other hand and caught Graham by the back of his neck, pulling him in close. He scented Graham's neck, and after a half second of what looked like panicked indecision, Graham yielded, arching his neck to give Angelus access.

Angelus allowed his demonic face to show right before he slowly sunk his fangs into Graham's neck. Graham stood, his hands still behind his back, but the surprised and blissed out expression on his face made it pretty clear that he hadn't expected the bite to feel good. Xander stepped on a little jolt of jealousy that shot through him. If Angelus wanted to bring Graham into the clan by sleeping with him, not only could Xander do a big nothing about it, but Graham would not exactly be enjoying it, so jealousy was pretty stupid.

Angelus pulled his fangs out and chuckled as he pulled Xander closer. "Not as sweet as you, a choi." Angelus licked his lips and just watched while Graham took a dazed step back. "Where did you get the stake?"

"Um... my closet." Graham shook his head and brought a hand up to touch the bite mark.

"Who made it?" Angelus asked, and this time he sounded a little grumpier. Graham blinked and then finally seemed to focus on Angelus.

"The army."

Angelus nodded. "Poor balance. It didn't throw straight and the wood was too soft to make a good weapon. Get Xander to make you a better one."

"Yes, sir," Graham agreed. Xander allowed Angelus to shepherd him toward the throne he'd set up on the far side of the room. Once Angelus was seated, Xander settled in on the cushion at his feet, leaning into Angelus' leg.

"So, you want to train Wesley." Angelus reached down, and it took a second for Xander to realize that Angelus wanted him to get up. He stood, and it took some more fumbling before Xander then figured out he was being invited to sit next to Angelus in the oversized chair.

"Humans are strange creatures. If we're only asked to do one task, we become less and less efficient at that one task," Graham answered. He still sounded a little spacey, but he seemed to be recovering quicker than Xander normally did. Then again, Xander normally had bite bliss and sex bliss going on at the same time.

Angelus didn't answer immediately. He watched the room and the minions still shifting in the shadows. Xander wondered if Angelus was ignoring Graham or just trying to figure out whether he was telling the truth.

"Permission to ask a question?" Graham asked. Xander hadn't heard Graham this officially military... well... ever.

Angelus slowly turned to look at Graham, studying him for a second before raising his eyebrows in a questioning expression that Graham must have taken as permission.

"What duties would you like me to take? Should I train the minions or just work with Xander and Wesley? Should I continue my cross reference work with the library? Should I continue to prepare reports for Captain Finn or would you rather we terminate our arrangement with the government?" Graham focused his eyes straight ahead, not actually looking at Angelus, but Xander watched Angelus with great curiosity. He'd expected a bit of an explosion by now, but instead, Angelus was looking thoughtful.

"How much do Finn and the slayer know?"

Xander closed his eyes. One wrong move, and Angelus would be declaring war on Sunnydale, and Xander was going to hate himself forever if that happened. He felt like if he just stayed very still, the cracking ice under him wouldn't crack, and he tried giving Graham the evil eye, to warn him that he was walking on some pretty thin psychological ice, but Graham kept his gaze straight forward.

"They know that the soul curse is gone and that Xander chose to come back. They are also aware that Faith would like to return and I was concerned that I would be too vulnerable as leverage against her."

Angelus leaned forward. "You are."

Graham got a strange look on his face and glanced down at the bracelet. "Yeah, I figured."

"What do Finn and the slayer plan to do?"

"Nothing."

"If you lie to me, I will string you up and whip you raw," Angelus said, his voice low and just a little growly. Xander was officially going to have a heart attack.

Graham's back went stiff and he gave a single nod. "I remember very well what happened last time I concealed information and you had to persuade me."

"You won't escape that easily again," Angelus warned, and Xander looked from one to the other. Okay, he had obviously missed something because he was not remembering Graham holding out on them, and from the way these two were talking, Graham had been stretched out on some rack while Angelus questioned him, only since Angelus hadn't been around Graham, so that would have been Angel stretching Graham out on the rack.

"Understood, sir. However, I am not lying. Riley has orders to avoid any organized demonic communities unless those communities threaten the stability of national security or the world. You are not within his purview, and he will not take action against you."

"And the slayer?"

"Faith, Blair, and I all told her that this was not her business and that if she insisted on coming down here, she would not only do so without our support but that she would likely destroy any relationships between our groups. Honestly, she may feel pulled until she hears from Xander and knows that he truly did make the choice to come back here, and he tells her to mind her own fucking business. However, I think Captain Finn will attempt to keep her clear. I also believe her watcher will try to keep her clear because Mr. Giles was very specific about how dangerous you were and how we were all fools for not immediately evacuating and seeking shelter with their group."

Xander snorted. Angelus looked away from Graham and looked over at Xander with some amusement. It was weird, looking Angelus in the eye because most of the time, Xander was sitting at his feet when they were down here. Angelus raised an eyebrow. "Like that would have gone over well," Xander explained. "Can you imagine Spike and Buffy in the same space for more than five minutes without wanting to kill each other? And Cordelia is not really big on the forgiving of Willow... she's not even little on the forgiving. She's more like really pissed and verbally poking whenever possible. You can't tell me that the idea of everyone going to Sunnydale is not just a little amusing."

"I'd be amused if it weren't for the fact that someone would end up dead," Graham agreed.

Angelus just got that thoughtful look that suggested he was not really so put off by the idea of people dead. "So, Giles is afraid that I'll take his slayer," Angelus sounded entirely too pleased about that, but that was the sort of thing that did please Angelus. Xander leaned in, trying to distract Angelus by slipping his fingers between the buttons of Angelus' shirt. Angelus ran his fingers over Xander's shoulder and leaned back in his chair. "If she comes down here, I will take her. You know that."

"Yes, sir," Graham agreed. Xander's breath hitched. "I just don't see any reason for us to interact with them. If you take out the slayer, someone is going to have to hold the hellmouth, and that's a miserable little town to be stuck in."

Xander could definitely back up that play. "I think Angel liked it because there was lots of time to do reading and not much else. They don't even have a good cable service provider in town." This time, Angelus didn't even bother to hide his cranky look when he stared at Xander. "It's true and you know it," Xander defended himself. He also worked his fingers south toward Angelus' stomach. When all else failed, distract.

"M'fhear, you are as subtle as a trebuchet," Angelus commented.

"Would I be insulted if I knew what that was?"

"Possibly," Angelus said. It occurred to Xander this was actually the closest they'd come to normal conversation yet. Oh, he was still freaking over having to distract Angelus from killing Buffy, but either Angelus was mellowing or Xander was becoming frighteningly used to him. Angelus caught Xander's hand and brought it up to his mouth. He nicked the pad of Xander's thumb with one fang and then sucked gently on it. Xander squirmed as desire started rolling through him. Okay, clearly Angelus was way better with the distracting than Xander was. Angelus finally released the thumb only when Xander was breathing fast and squirming uncomfortably.

"So, you would serve me as something other than Faith's playtoy." Angelus seemed to be thinking about that as he watched Graham.

"I think that if I am nothing more than a playtoy I'll go insane," Graham said firmly. "I am well aware that you are going to take actions that I absolutely do not approve of. However, as long as those actions do not endanger national security or the stability of this world, I recognize that you are well within your rights."

"My right is to do whatever I want," Angelus warned with a growl.

"Sir, you have the power to do whatever you want, but if you send the world to hell, you can't expect me to support you. However, I do recognize that I would be hanging from your chains in the basement in that case and that there wouldn't be much I could do at that point."

Xander watched. This was a dangerous game Graham was playing. Xander had been going for more the stay out of Angelus' way plan, and it had actually been working pretty good, but this was something infinitely scarier because Angelus was perfectly aware that Graham was manipulating him. Xander just couldn't figure out if it would make things better or worse if he did anything else to contribute to the manipulation. Angelus' distracting sucking suggested he didn't want Xander getting in the middle, but then Xander had never been particularly good at staying out of the middle.

"Please don't kill Buffy." Xander whispered his plea in Angelus' ear, pressing close to his side and making it clear that he was willing to pay whatever price Angelus asked in return... not that they weren't already doing pretty much what Angelus asked.

"Will Finn be willing to continue our arrangement?" Angelus asked. Xander let out his breath and sucked another one in so fast that he got dizzy.

"Probably not unless Xander or I meet with them on neutral territory so they can determine that we aren't being coerced."

"But you are," Angelus pointed out. "Kneel."

Graham went to his knees without blinking.

"If I allowed you to walk out that door, would you return?"

Graham didn't answer immediately, and Xander could only sit and watch, not sure exactly how far Graham would take this.

"Right now, no."

Angelus' eyes yellowed.

"I'm worried about Faith. She adores you, and she's afraid that you aren't really you anymore. She would have come back to you eventually, if only because she has to know if she still has a home with you, but now she's probably feeling trapped. I would get to a secure location and allow Faith to make her own decision without the pressure of worrying about me."

Angelus stood and crossed the distance so that he was standing in front of Graham. Reaching out, he rested his fingers against Graham's head, and Xander curled up, terrified. "And if Faith chose my court, could I then trust you to know your place?"

Slowly Graham nodded. "Yes, sir. When I first requested this assignment, Captain Finn required me to read the materials the watchers collected on you. Before I showed up in L.A., I was convinced that you would run your court very much like this, and I was willing to make that commitment to you because I believed that the army had inadequate intel and would do more damage than good. I thought you were strong enough and knowledgeable enough to provide a better frontline defense against forces that would try to end the world. I still believe that."

"So, you would train Xander." Angelus returned to the chair, and Xander pressed to the side to give Angelus room. Instead, Angelus slipped an arm around him and pulled him close. "Would you want to train, to hunt at my side when I am cleaning out the disloyal minions that litter this city like trash?"

Xander looked at Angelus with wide eyes. Okay, he'd pretty much given up hope of ever leaving the hotel again, and now Angelus was offering this. Xander could feel tears prick at his eyes, not really from joy or from sadness or from any emotion except surprise. Angelus smiled.

"Train him well. If you go easy on him to spare him a few bruises, I'll put those bruises on your backside," Angelus warned Graham. Xander's head was spinning as he realized Angelus wasn't teasing.

"Wesley?" Xander asked, glancing over only to find the man was gone.

Angelus gave him an odd look. "He's a poor fighter."

"Um, I kinda was too at one point," Xander argued.

Angelus stared at him for a second before looking over to Graham. "Wesley's greatest value is his talent in that library, so let me make this clear. He is confined to the hotel until you believe he is trained well enough to not trip himself or Xander in any fight. If you approve his training and it proves inadequate in any way, I will take the whip to your backside."

"Yes, sir. Understood perfectly," Graham agreed without even a trace of worry. Angelus frowned, so Xander was guessing he wasn't all that happy about something, but he was letting them do this, and right now Xander was almost giddy at the thought of walking outside.

Pulling him close, Angelus leaned in, and Xander thought he was going to do the sniff thing he liked so much. Instead Angelus whispered in his ear. "Graham keeps too much of his attention on me in a fight. He is not unlike Wesley. Wait until I am behind him to attack." Angelus gave him a little push, and Xander stumbled off the chair.

"Let me see you spar."

"You ready?" Graham asked as he got to his feet and took a defensive position against Xander.

"Um, yep," Xander agreed. Angelus was up and watching them, walking what seemed to be a random path around the room. As he passed one group of minions, Angelus struck out and one vampire exploded into dust, sending the rest running.

Graham glanced over, and Xander hesitated, caught between wanting to attack and show Angelus that he was good enough to go out and wanting to give Graham at least some sort of fair warning because technically they hadn't started the fight yet.

"A lot of people around here are as subtle as trebuchets," Graham commented as he turned back around to face Xander, his hands out and ready for an attack. Xander moved in slowly, testing Graham's defenses the way Spike had taught him. He attacked on the left and the right and then the right again before going low. Each time, Graham deflected him with just enough force to put Xander off-balance and force him to regroup. It'd been months since Xander had won a sparring match, largely because he was focusing on drywall and plumbing codes while Graham spent every day with Spike and Faith.

"I'm going to have to look that word up," Xander commented absent-mindedly. Buffy might be able to quip and fight, but Xander generally had to concentrate on one or the other.

Graham didn't answer, but he did attack with a series of punches and kicks that had Xander retreating across the lobby. A minion hissed off to the side and then there was another familiar whooshing sound as one more vampire turned to dust.

Xander concentrated on countering Graham's assault, waiting for the moment when he ran out of energy or lost his balance or, more likely, got a hit through and flattened Xander. Angelus was circling now, and he stopped on the far side of the room, watching silently. And for a fraction of a second, Graham twitched in Angelus' direction, like he was checking to make sure the vampire wasn't sneaking up. Xander struck out with his foot and caught Graham right above the knee. Rather than let his leg get broken, Graham took the fall and went to the ground. He tried a quick roll and up, and Xander struck out. He missed Graham's jaw and caught him on the shoulder, but it was enough to send Graham off balance, and now Xander counter-attacked. Graham couldn't catch his balance, and when his leg hit the couch, he went down.

"Uncle!" he called from the floor, the couch still trapping him on one side and Xander on the other. "Shit. I need to practice more."

Angelus clapped. "Maybe I should allow you two to practice on the minions. It would cut down on the number of idiots around here." Xander noticed a number minions scatter for parts unknown.

"Actually, I kinda cheated," Xander admitted as he went to Angelus and leaned into him. "Angelus told me that you try to keep an eye on him, so I attacked when he was behind you."

Graham got up rubbing his elbow. "Xander, that's not cheating; that's a good tactical advantage. And if Angelus can see that weakness in my fighting style, other people can, too. It's a good lesson for me. It's a painful one, but a good one."

Angelus left Xander's side to walk over to Graham, his hands catching Graham's arm and feeling up it. Graham hissed, but he didn't make any comment about the manhandling. "I can almost believe that you're accepting your place," Angelus commented as he finished his examination. "Perhaps when Faith comes back, you will let go of the last of your hesitations. So, are you ready to come back?" Angelus looked up toward the balcony. Xander gasped as he saw Faith standing there, stake in hand.


	46. 46

"New wardrobe?" Faith asked as she wandered toward the stairs.

"The old one was sadly lacking leather," Angelus agreed. Graham was staring up at Faith, his face a riot of emotion that Xander couldn't even hope to understand. However, if he got in the middle and tried to protect Faith, this was going to be even uglier, and from the stake in Faith's hand, this just might get really, really ugly. Xander hurried to Graham's side and caught his arm, pulling him back toward the front desk.

"You sent people after Graham."

Angelus shrugged without denying it, and now he was circling around to take a good position to attack the stairs. "If I sent them after you, you'd kill them all."

"If I find out who you sent, I still will," Faith said with a cocky smile. "So, you really want to throw down with me? Is that why you sent some assholes after Graham?"

"Faith, I'm fine," Graham called out. Faith glanced over, and Xander knew that was a tactical mistake. Graham did too because he flinched, but Angelus didn't strike.

Instead, Angelus kept on talking. "If I want to send someone after you, I will. You are mine, and I did not give you permission to be absent from the court."

"Oh babe." Faith shook her head. "If that's how you want to play this."

"It is. You will acknowledge my claim or I will drop your dead body at Graham's feet." Angelus sounded weirdly cheerful about that, but Xander could see Graham go absolutely pale.

"He doesn't want to kill her," Xander whispered. It was kinda pathetic as far as reassurance went, but it was all he had to offer, and maybe it was enough because Graham let Xander pull him back behind the counter. Faith spared them both a look, and Xander felt guilt curdle in his guts. He was the idiot who had decided to come back, and now she was putting her life on the line for him and Graham. Maybe Spike should leash him so he couldn't go doing anything this stupid again. Angelus wasn't Angel. He would kill Faith if she didn't fit into his neat little idea of clan.

"I'm not that easy to kill. You should know—you trained me to know how to kill vampires."

Angelus chuckled. It was a scary sound. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." Angelus laughed outright this time. "Are you afraid Faith? Because if you don't yield, this is your valley of death."

"Somehow, I'm not worried," Faith said with as much brassy arrogance as normal, and that was quite a lot. Xander watched as minions gathered together in corners—corners particularly near the exits. Oh, if Angelus survived this, he was going to turn them all into dust. And oddly, Harmony, who had been out with them the whole time, had now vanished. Graham clutched the counter so tight his knuckles turned white.

"You should—" Angelus didn't finish. Instead he struck out, throwing a knife across the room mid-sentence, and Faith threw herself backwards to avoid the weapon. That left her off balance, and she went to her butt on the stairs, and Angelus leaped into the fight. For a second, they grappled on the stairs, and then they went flying down the stairs, their arms still locked around each other. Graham grabbed for his knife, and Xander caught his wrist.

"Do, and she has to kill him or be killed because he'll gut you." Xander clung to Graham and he prayed that he was giving the right advice because if Angelus killed Faith anyway, Graham was never going to survive. Xander realized that for the first time. As much as Xander had felt like he was dying when Jenny spell had ripped Angel away, that's how much Graham hurt now. Only now, Graham was having to watch it happen and make a decision about whether or not he was going to try to stop it. If this went bad, Graham was never going to forgive himself or Xander, and Xander was going to be right there with him on the unforgiving. "She's been his since she was fifteen years old. He won't want her dead," Xander pleaded, and he wasn't sure if he was pleading with Graham to not get in the middle or pleading with the universe to make it true.

Graham slowly let his fingers relax, and Xander took the knife. If Graham had it, he would be too tempted. It was like him and the vial, and sometimes it was really hard to not do something stupid when the choices were to be stupid or do nothing. Graham's face closed down, all emotions gone as he watched the fight, but Xander could see his fingers grip the counter so hard that the muscles stood out on the back of his hand like cords.

"Getting slow old man," Faith said as she broke away from the close combat. Her lip was bleeding, and she wiped it, smearing the blood across her cheek.

"Clearly, you need a reminder of who is in charge." Angelus actually looked mussed. His shirt was out on one side, and his sword had vanished altogether. Xander looked around, but he couldn't see where it had fallen.

"Not you," Faith said with a snort. "If you want to play daddy with Xander, that's between you two." Xander felt his face flush with heat.

"She's just trying to throw him," Graham whispered, reaching over to put a hand on Xander's arm. And from the look on Angelus' face, she was doing a pretty good job.

"If you want me to play daddy, you don't have to play these games. You won't be the first to call me daddy and beg to please me. And I won't be the first you've begged and spread your legs for and called daddy." Angelus delivered the line with a smug smile that shocked Xander so much that he nearly vomited on the desk. Faith took a step back like he'd slapped her, and her face went cold.

"Oh god, no," Xander whispered. Sometimes he could tell himself that he loved Angelus. Sometimes he could see the fractured remains of Angel left behind, like a broken window that lay on the ground still in the shape of the square, each fragment lying in its spot. But this wasn't Angel. Angel had been the one to reach out for Faith, to try to help her heal from the pain of her past. This... this was a monster who was taking the same memories and twisting them into a weapon. Angelus was all sharp and broken edges that sliced into anyone who got too near.

Faith attacked with a flurry of kicks that drove Angelus back toward the desk. Xander watched the fight with a cold horror slowly settling over him. He had wanted Faith to just surrender, and now he didn't know what he wanted. He wanted to go back to the fifth floor and lay the floor one board at a time, working until he was too old to stand up straight anymore. He wanted to forget that Angelus had said that and find a way to slip back into his comfortable lies. He wanted Faith to stick a stake so far in Angelus that she could erase the words he had just used to rip through her.

Angelus grabbed her, and the fight turned into a close quarters scramble for supremacy and then Angelus went flying backwards into the banister. It snapped, and Angelus reached over and grabbed the broken section of railing, ripping it free and brandishing it like a club. "I never knew you liked being hurt. If that's what you want, I can provide that for you." Angelus smirked.

"You're going to die," Faith said with a cold fury.

"Not today," Angelus said with such cheerfulness that Xander found himself hating Angelus just a little bit more. Faith looked utterly devastated—her anger was carved into every twitch of her body, and she was almost vibrating with rage. She was also on the verge of losing so very badly because Angelus was totally in control. "Today, I think I have a girl who needs to be brought back under control."

"Fuck you," Faith said. She leaped in for an attack. Angelus brought his weapon around, but Faith wasn't that blinded by anger—not yet anyway. She leaped to the side and then spun around, delivering a kick to Angelus' exposed side.

"Again, if you want to fuck, you don't need these games," Angelus offered sweetly.

Faith flew at him, and Xander cringed as he realized she had totally lost all concentration. She left her side totally vulnerable, and Graham cringed even before Angelus' foot caught her in the stomach and sent her crashing against the wall. Xander gasped, and Graham darted out from behind the desk, but before he was halfway across the room, Angelus had Faith's arm up behind her back, and his other arm across her throat.

"Boy," Angelus warned Graham darkly, "on your knees."

Graham stopped, his fists clenched at his sides. Angelus wrenched Faith's arm up behind her, and she gasped in pain. Immediately, Graham dropped to his knees, his back stiff and his fists clenched on his thighs, and Xander had absolutely no idea how to fix any of this. The illusion was gone, and this wasn't Angel. The minions pressed forward, the boldest leaving the doorways and halls where they'd been sheltered in order to watch Angelus... actually, Xander wasn't sure what Angelus was going to do.

"So, you're finally home. Is that idiot childe of mine here? William?" Angelus called up into the hotel. Silence answered him. "So, alone?"

Faith didn't answer until Angelus wrenched her arm up again. Graham jerked, and Faith gasped out, "Yes, I'm alone."

"Your boy there was worried about you," Angelus said, his eyes focusing on Graham. "He was afraid he had put you in a bad situation, but I think he put you in exactly the situation you want to be in."

Xander moved to the front of the desk, his heart breaking just as badly as it had on the day he realized that Angel's soul wasn't trapped or stolen, but just gone. This was his fault. He'd given Angel that moment of perfect happiness, even knowing the curse was there. He'd held Graham back. Xander looked down at his hand where he still had Graham's knife.

Faith didn't answer—she pressed her lips together tightly. Angelus moved forward, forcing Faith to move with him. It was pretty clear that she was fighting with every bit of strength she had, but Angelus just pushed her forward until they were standing right in front of Graham.

Graham had knelt up, his fists at his sides, and his jaw tightly clenched. "Graham here believes I'm a better defense than the military when it comes to the sort of evil that seem to always want the world to end. He confessed to me that he was willing to go to his knees, even to the soul. I wonder. Does he go on his knees for you?"

"Fuck you," Faith cursed, but her words were soft and tired.

"Sir," Graham started to say.

"Shut up," Angelus cut him off. Xander took a step forward, not sure what do to, but he couldn't do nothing. Angelus looked up at him and for one second, the confusion looked just like Angel—the illusion slipped back into place, and Xander sucked in a breath, his heart pounding painfully hard in his chest. Angelus shook his head and looked down at Faith again.

"So, you have some choices. Do you want to hear them?"

"What? You talk me to death?" Faith asked. The sarcasm was forced, and Graham was almost trembling. Xander took another step forward. If he attacked, he was dead, he really didn't have any doubt about that. His mom would probably follow shortly after, but somehow that didn't seem nearly as horrifying as standing still and watching a monster he set loose kill Faith.

"Faith, Faith, Faith," Angelus said in a scolding tone. "What I want is you back in your place, and you've been bad—in front of the minions no less. So, you need to be punished. Should I treat you like one of my clan, like a childe who has done something particularly stupid? Maybe you'd like that. It'd be familiar territory for you." Angelus made a production of sniffing along Faith's neck. "I remember having to bring Spike in line over and over. That boy doesn't look half-bad with a cock in his mouth. Or maybe I should treat you like Graham here and put you on your knees until you remember who your master is. Maybe you will take your place with the humans and bend your neck, offering me your blood. Or maybe you refuse to yield at all, and then this will be the valley of death for you and your boy."

Angelus gave Faith's neck another sniff and then he pushed her roughly away. Graham went to follow, but Angelus put his hand on Graham's shoulder, pushing him back down. "See how I marked your boy?" Angelus asked. He pushed on the side of Graham's neck so that the red marks were clearly visible.

Faith looked at Angelus and then at Xander. Her gaze burned him, it tattooed guilt so deep into his soul, that Xander thought he really might be able to outbrood Angel himself—if Angel weren't dead and gone and if they didn't all have to deal with the monster who'd been left behind. Xander let the hand with the knife fall to the side. If Faith wanted to take it from him, he wouldn't stop her. He wasn't sure if he's stop her if she took it and plunged it into his chest. Actually, that seemed like justice right now.

"So, you mark me, and then we all go back to being one happy family?" Faith circled, but Xander knew there was no way she'd risk jumping Angelus when his hand was resting against Graham's neck.

"You go back to obeying me, and we all go back to being one happy family. Bending your neck in supplication and asking my forgiveness is just how you prove that you'll obey better this time around."

"So, you just want me to roll over and be your bitch?" Faith checked. The words were strangely not-angry, and given just how hard Angelus was pushing her into a corner, Xander couldn't quite figure out where all her angry was.

"You are my slayer. You always have been, and you will either show me that you remember that or I will remind you again. Boy, explain to her why you would stay with me, even if I gave you the chance to walk out that door right now."

For a second, Graham just bit his lip, but Angelus leaned a knee into Graham's back in warning and he held up his right arm. "The cuff doesn't allow me to leave the hotel. It will cripple me with pain if I try."

"Fuck," Faith sighed. She let her eyes fall closed for a second, and Xander could feel her surrender.

"Faith, just take off. I'd rather live with those consequences than see you trapped." Graham blurted the words, his gaze darting up to Angelus as if just expecting to get hit for daring to say it. Instead, Angelus chuckled.

"He actually means those words, Faith. You found yourself a man who would rather die by torture than let you lose one drop of blood over him." Angelus patted Graham on the cheek like he might a dog he liked, and Xander could see the disgust in Graham's face.

"So, that's the future you have planned for me—the pet slayer you keep on a leash and trot out for the other demons to see and poke at?"

Angelus frowned at her, and Xander could see the confusion for a second before the smirk was back in place. "You're my slayer, your future is whatever I say. If demons stand up against me, I will send you to destroy them. You will walk by my side, and the vampire courts who have not yet submitted will be left in ash and ruin. And if a demon pokes at you, you will rip off its arm and force the creature to eat it."

Faith dropped her hands to her side and looked down at Graham before she looked over at Xander. "Are you guys alright?" Xander chewed his lip, not sure how to answer that. He wasn't okay.

"We're fine, Faith," Graham answered for him. "Angelus hasn't hurt us." Xander ducked his head at the way Graham pointed out that him and Graham hadn't been hurt. Yeah, they were fine, but Angelus had hurt Faith in ways that Xander never would have believed. But maybe he should have believed it because Angelus was a demon, and unlike Spike, he had always been focused on getting what he wanted.

"And I won't. Unlike some people, I am very careful to care for my possessions," Angelus said, and Xander flinched as he realized that was Angelus' way of being comforting, only not so much with the actual comfort. Angelus held his hand out, and Faith stared at it for a long second. She looked down at Graham kneeling at Angelus' feet, and then she took a step forward. When she reached up to take Angelus' hand, the expression of triumph on Angelus' face almost broke Xander's heart.

Maybe there were parts of Angelus that he would always love, but this was just under the surface—this desire to make sure that other people were under him—below him. And maybe that was okay for Xander because he'd never been exactly the type to be on the top, but Faith didn't need to get knocked down just so she fit neatly under Angelus. Xander frowned. Oh god, he so seriously hoped that she was going to be figuratively under Angelus because if Angelus had sex with Faith, Xander's genitals were going on a very long vacation from which they just might not come back. And Xander suspected that Angelus was not going to be amused by that.

Faith put her hand in Angelus', and he pulled her close, his other hand still on Graham's head. When Faith came close enough, Graham reached out and touched her leg, his silver restraint bracelet reflecting the hotel lights. Angelus let go of Faith's hand and reached up to run a finger along her cheek, and Faith took a deep breath before tilting her head to one side, her neck arching.

Xander sucked in a breath as Angelus slipped a hand around Faith's waist, pulling her close before putting his face to her neck. Xander was too far to hear the sound of feeding, like he had when Angelus had fed from Graham, but his imagination supplied the sound. Sooner than Xander expected, Angelus raised his head from Faith's neck, licking his lips.

"Slayer's blood. Better than brandy for warming ye." Angelus smiled at Faith, and Faith looked up at him, so open and vulnerable that Xander wanted to rush in between them and pull Faith away. She was too vulnerable and sooner or later, Angelus was going to hurt her. "So, is that idiot William coming home or am I going to have to go out and fetch him?"

Faith shook her head, and that tough mask slipped back in place. "I don't think he intended for you to find him."

Angelus glared at Faith, but she glared right back. "I'll bring him home, eventually, but the longer he's gone, the longer he's going to hang from my chains."

Faith shrugged. "I figure he knows that already."

"If he isn't dust before I catch up with him, he's going to wish he was," Angelus said in his cranky voice. "And he is obviously lairing up in the sewers like a rat. Go get bathed." Angelus nodded toward the stairs. Faith took one step backwards and then looked down at Graham still at Angelus' feet. Graham looked up for permission, and Xander figured there wasn't anything they could have done to make Angelus any happier. Too bad Angelus' perfect happiness couldn't reverse the reversal on the curse. Xander flinched. Or not. Right now, he didn't think Angel wanted to be back in his body, feeling the guilt of all the havoc he'd wrecked in his own family. It'd kill him. Again.

"Go on, boy. Your slayer looks like she needs some attention." With that, Angelus turned his back on the pair. A minion hissed, either in shock or appreciation at the strength Angelus must have to turn his back to a slayer, but Angelus ignored it as he moved toward Xander. With a confused look, Angelus took the knife from Xander's numb fingers. He looked at it for a second before turning back toward the stairs.

"Faith!" he called. She turned around, and he sent the knife flying at her. She plucked it out of the air.

"What the fuck?"

"Keep your toy's toys in their place," Angelus suggested in a tone that made it clear he wasn't joking. Faith looked over at Graham, and he held out his hand for the knife.

"Yes, sir," Graham agreed as he took it from Faith and slipped it back into place in his belt. Faith said something to Graham, and then the two of them turned to head up the stairs. Angelus slipped an arm around Xander's shoulder, and Xander couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through him.

"M'fhear, are you unwell?" Angelus asked with a frown.

"Um, kinda, yeah," Xander agreed. "I just don't feel well."

"We should get you to bed," Angelus quickly said, his Angel mask firmly in place as he studied Xander with something that looked a lot like love.


	47. 47

Xander lay in his bed watching Angelus' hand trail down his arm, his fingertips tracing the same lazy trail that Angel had always followed. Yesterday, Xander would have taken comfort in that. He would have watched Angelus' hand slowly caress him, and he would have taken it for proof that Angelus, like Spike, could learn to love. A demon learned from the human soul who had first owned the body, and maybe Angelus could learn from Angel, too.

But Angel never would have said that to Faith. And watching them fight, Xander had realized that Angelus was prepared to kill her... her and Graham... if she didn't surrender. He would have killed her or raped her to make her submit, and Xander still wasn't sure which would have been worse, and he'd just sat there and let him happen, which made him worse than Angelus. Angelus had the whole no-soul excuse. Xander was just a coward.

"M'fhear, should I get Wesley?" Angelus asked. Xander looked up from that large hand still slowly stroking his arm and into concerned brown eyes. Was that love? Xander had thought so, but now he was wondering if it was just concern that one of Angelus' toys wasn't up to amusing him. "You don't smell well."

"I told you sniffing is rude," Xander said, but his voice was weak.

Angelus smiled at him anyway. "And I always agreed and then continued to smell you." He was amused now, but the worry hadn't left his eyes. Xander looked back down at the hand trailing over his arm in slow circles. Usually by now Angelus was well into the sexual act, but tonight he seemed oddly willing to simply lay close. Xander's body wanted to sink into the familiar comfort and push all other thoughts aside, but he couldn't. He'd never been good at self-deception. Oh, he could spin a mean story about how his eye really got black, one that didn't involve tripping over a tombstone while chasing a vampire in tenth grade, but he wasn't one of those who could lie to himself.

"How many people have you killed?" Xander asked, his mouth blurting the words before his brain could register the fact that he probably didn't want to have this conversation. He looked up at Angelus' face, but Angelus' expression hadn't changed.

"A few people on the street, three watchers sent to investigate and report back and a few Wolfram and Hart employees who annoyed me. They tried returning Darla to life thinking that I wanted to be under the thumb of a treacherous sire." Angelus' expression made it fairly clear how he felt about that.

"Darla's back?"

"Not anymore."

Xander frowned, not understanding what happened.

"I ripped her head off."

Gasping, Xander stared at Angelus. "But you were all conflicted about having to stake her, you did major angst last time."

Angelus raised an eyebrow.

"Angel did major angst," Xander corrected himself.

"Angel had confused his feelings for his mother and his sire. Darla considered me a toy, a plaything, and maybe Angel was willing to put up with that in order to sooth his guilt over feeding on his mother, but I'm not. I fed on the mother because she deserved it. She was weak. She lived under the thumb of that man until death was more than likely a blessing. And Darla... well, she was a good fuck and a great teacher, but I don't need either from her—not anymore." Angelus reached over and slapped Xander on the hip, a gesture unique to him.

"And the watcher guys?"

"Why the interest in my feeding habits? If your soul bothers you, remember that I have killed more vampires than Angel managed in a hundred years. The city is safer for having me as the master of LA rather than that ineffectual excuse of a vampire who refused to take the power there waiting for him."

Xander frowned, because that was true, too. For the first time in a long time, he wished Father Peter was here to talk these things through with, but somehow, he didn't see that going over well with Angelus.

"Before ye go thinking too hard, boy, remember that I never asked your permission to be who I am. I am a vampire, and I'll not be pretending I'm anything else."

Xander looked into yellowed eyes. "I say things that piss you off all the time—it's part of my charm," he pointed out, but fear was prickling at the edges of his awareness, and Angelus never liked to smell fear on him.

"I can protect you from the likes of the watchers." Angelus laughed. "The head of their hunter team will be giving them trouble enough for quite a while. I haven't made such a strong vampire since Penn." Angelus looked amused. "If he gives his former bosses half as much trouble as Penn gave me as a fledge, they will too busy to bother us for many years. And a demon summoned by Wolfram and Hart dispatched the Oracles, so there are not threats to the clan, a choi." Oh shit. Shit and shit and more shit with a side of cold-hearted bastard. Xander's stomach twisted into unfamilar shapes as he considered a new terror turned loose on the world, and not even a normal terror, but an Angelus-created terror. Penn, Dru, even Spike--they were monsters several steps ahead of the normal monster because Angelus was good at creating evil.

And Xander was laying in bed with him--the monster creator. Xander wondered if some family in England was dying right now. Shit. How much damage could a vamped watcher do what with all the demon knowledge the human had come ready made with. It was like one of those sponges you dropped in water and it turned twenty times bigger. After seeing Giles' family issues and Wesley's family issues, Xander was willing to be watchers in general had issues, and now Angelus had taken the issues and added water, and 'poof'--instant evil.

"No threats. That's good," Xander said weakly, struggling to turn off his brain, which was spinning like a gerbil in a wheel. Yep, he was just gerbil brains. And considering that he had just now figured out that he had to find a way to take Angelus out, he was going to be very dead gerbil brains if he wasn't careful. However, no way would Angel want his body out creating uber-vampires to torture groups of people—not even the watchers, and Angel was not a watcher fan.

Nope, Angelus wasn't Angel, and he never would be Angel, and this weird Angelish period would end the minute Angelus stopped and thought about unhappy things like aging and dying and leaving. And somehow, Xander didn't think that Angelus was going to handle having his family grow old and die very well, which meant that as time marched on, Angelus was going to be forced to act more and more like Angelus just to keep his toys and his clan and his illusions. He'd turn them. Xander knew that now. And once he'd turned them, the whole watcher attack would get more and more common because Angelus wouldn't have to worry about having some tender human whose feelings he had to keep in mind.

Xander wondered what kind of a vampire he'd be. Would he be all issuey and try to conquer the world? If he'd been turned at sixteen, he so would have been another Angelus. Maybe he'd be a depressed vampire who would sit and stare at a sunbeam all day. Hopefully, he wouldn't find out because if Angelus turned him, there was not going to be anything keeping him from going Scourge of California. Or Scourge of L.A. maybe because Angelus seemed to like having a permanent court. He could go on killing vacations to the Keys or the South of France and then come home to his lair. Xander could feel the hysteria like a bubble in his chest slowly growing bigger until he felt like he couldn't breathe.

"I'm getting Wesley," Angelus suddenly announced. "I should turn a doctor." That last statement finally made the bubble burst, and Xander gasped for air, seeing spots in front of his vision. Yep, that was Angelus' solution to everything, and that's why Xander had to stake the man he loved. And god help him, because when he died, Xander was so ending up in hell with Angelus rather than up with Angel. He shouldn't love someone who could just casually comment on murdering someone. He shouldn't. But his gerbil brains very clearly did.

The hysteria slipped out of Xander in gasping breaths and weak laughter. Maybe this was hell. The door flew open, Angelus, naked, was dragging a still-dressed but rather rumpled looking Wesley. For some reason, Harmony was trailing just behind, hovering at the open door.

"Xander?" Wesley knelt down at the edge of the bed, his hand cool on Xander's forehead. "He seems a little warm."

"I'm fine." Xander pushed Wesley's hand away, but he couldn't seem to catch his breath, so he sat gasping.

"You are not fine. I'll find a doctor." Angelus turned to go, but the thought of him out there turning a random dude made Xander's abused lungs feel like they were on fire. He gasped desperately, but he couldn't seem to get any oxygen in.

"You have to slow down, Xander," Wesley advised him. Yeah, like that helped. Xander couldn't get enough air now, and if he slowed down any, he was going to die from lack of oxygen. "I need a paper bag."

The world was streaked with gray spots that moved like drunk fish, and Xander grabbed the arm of someone who slipped in behind him. He grabbed the arm and held on for dear life because the whole losing control of his body just sucked.

"Is he...?" Angelus' voice boomed and echoed oddly.

"He's hyperventilating. He just needs to slow down his breathing."

A hand reached around, covering Xander's mouth, and Xander exploded. He shoved and twisted and bit in a desperate attempt to reach the air.

"Here. Here. I got one." Harmony's voice warbled, and then Xander could breathe again, but the air was hot and stale as someone pushed a paper bag over his face. But it was better than not breathing, so Xander gasped for air and relaxed into the strong arms holding him tightly.

"He's breathing better. What happened to him?" Angelus sounded cranky. Even worse, Wesley looked ready to pee his pants, and for the first time, Xander considered that Wesley might be having the more rational reaction and Xander might have been grossly underestimating the epic bad of having Angelus back.

"Sometimes the cheerleaders did that before a big competition," Harmony offered. "Or after sometimes. Betty would finish her last jump and smile for the judges and then we'd have to just about carry her off the stage." Xander looked up, wondering why Harmony was even here. "It's a human thing," she said with a shrug, like that was below her. Even though Xander was being held close to Angelus' chest—too close to see his expression—it was clear from the way Harmony turned and ran that she had gotten one of those looks. Yep, Angelus had one serious "I'm going to kill you" looks, and Xander was fairly sure he wasn't kidding.

"Anxiety attacks are common both before and after major stress," Wesley offered. Yep, good old Wesley was right. Deciding that you had to stake the three hundred year old monster that was holding you close and stroking your arm soothingly—that was stress. That was major stress and potential therapy and permanent psychological damage all rolled into one. But that was the only solution Xander could see.

"Why are you stressed, Xander?" Angelus asked. Xander closed his eyes and focused on just breathing because his lungs suddenly didn't want to work. "M'fhear?"

"We were all worried about how far Faith would push you. This is probably just a reaction to tonight," Wesley answered for Xander. Xander looked up gratefully, and from the expression on Wesley's face, Wesley suspected he was lying for Xander.

"She's back in the clan now, so you can calm down, m'fhear. We'll get that idiot Spike back and send Blair back to Washington, and then everything will be as it should be." Angelus finally let Xander push the bag away, and Xander drew in a full breath of fresh air. For a second, he was afraid the room would start to crush his lungs again, but air actually moved in and out of his lungs. After 20 years of knowing how to breathe, Xander had never expected to lose that particular ability, and he could now definitely say that it was not a pleasant experience.

"I just freaked a little. I'm okay. I'm fine." Xander rested his hand against Angelus' knee and felt a wave of guilt so heavy that he gasped for a breath before he forced himself to slow down.

"You are really an incredibly bad liar."

Xander twisted around, which wasn't easy with Angelus' arms tightening around him.

"Oh dear," Wesley muttered.

Standing in the middle of the bedroom, Anyanka had on a very odd expression as she studied him and Angelus. It took Xander a second to figure out that it was lust, and then he dropped his paper bag and clutched the sheet closer. Okay,, as often as people popped into his bedroom, he seriously needed to start wearing pajamas.

"So. Year's up," she announced cheerfully.


	48. 48

Oh shit. Xander was becoming the potty mouth in his brain, but he thought he was pretty justified because no one should be tortured by demons as much as he was... and considering Angelus still had Lindsey downstairs, that might not be the best choice of words, even in his own head.

"It's not been a year yet," Angelus said with a touch of growl in his voice. "Come back and hear his answer later."

"So I'm a few days early," Anyanka shrugged. "The dramatic moment is always more important than the technicalities."

"Maybe I should..." Wesley's voice trailed off.

"Get out," Angelus snapped.

"Yes, get out. Good advice. So nice to meet you." Wesley sidestepped toward the door in this weird hopping step that got him out pretty damn fast.

"So, you have to tell me your fantasy so I can put you with someone who makes you happy. This is not the sort of wish I want to get caught making, so make it fast."

Xander's stomach tightened. If she'd asked him yesterday or even three hours ago, he'd know his answer. And even knowing that Angel's soul had earned a little peace, Xander wanted to ask for him. He wanted to feel Angel's arms around him, and sometimes he even liked to pretend that Angel was in hell—that he could save Angel by pulling him back and having him shoved in a body with a demon. But that was the fantasy. Wanting that was like fantasizing about your parents dropping dead to save you from a history test. Yeah, you did it, but you never, ever admitted to it. And wanting Angel back out of heaven was feeling like that kind of guilty, creepy fantasy. And that meant he was left with one choice... which was the least bad of a whole lot of bad choices because picking someone as a lifemate and then staking them on principal—this did not make him a morally upstanding man. He was so going to need therapy again. But he had only one answer.

"Angelus," Xander said with all the resolve he could dig up.

Anyanka looked him up and down so thoroughly that Xander clutched the sheet and Angelus started growling.

"Mind yer manners or I'll teach you some," he said. He got up out of bed and took a step toward her, not even bothering to hide his oh so very nakedness. Anyanka just switched over to looking him up and down like the last piece of chocolate cake. Angelus crossed his arms and went into gameface. "He chose me, so the wish is filled and you can just leave."

The snort Angelus got in return was a bit of a surprise. Obviously, Angelus was surprised too, because it took him a whole half-second before he launched himself at her. Xander flinched back so hard that he clocked himself on the headboard, but the blood and guts and various pieces of intestine never started flying. Instead, the headboard grew chains, and the chains snaked out and snapped at Angelus until they caught his wrists and then yanked him back onto the bed.

"Go mbeire an diabhal leis thú!" Angelus snapped the words out, but the chains just withdrew into the headboard with a rough clattered, pulling Angelus back until he was chained tightly, right next to Xander.

"Hey! Not really the way I had this planned! You're supposed to be making me happy, remember?" Xander pointed out. Anyanka gave a shrug and walked over to the chair.

"I'll pull yer intestines out and break every bone in your body before I'm done with ye," Angelus snapped, and that was the all-Irish, all-pissed Angelus.

Anyanka rolled her eyes, her demonic features fading away. "Vampires are like men: they love to talk about everything they're going to do, but usually that's just covering their deep-set impotence. Not that you're impotent." Anyanka looked over Angelus' naked body laid out on the bed. "I'll admit that I have really enjoyed watching you two. You should do porn—there would be many people who would enjoy watching you."

Xander was so shocked his mouth fell open.

"You will suffer for this," Angelus snarled, and that snapped Xander back to reality. Oh this was going so very not well. Grabbing the edge of the sheet, Xander covered Angelus. Yeah, it was a pointless gesture, but he really didn't want Anyanka seeing any more than she had already seen, and it sounded like she had seen a lot. Ew. Demons and demony logic were just really unlogicy and more than a little gross.

"I doubt it," she said with a shrug. "So, you're choosing the walking attitude here? Really?" Anyanka turned toward Xander, and with her human face on, she almost looked confused.

"Yes, I'm picking Angelus," Xander agreed.

Anyanka's frown didn't look like a good sign.

"Hey, I'm the one who had naughty fantasies about Diana from V, so it's not even like this is the first time I've totally fallen for someone who could easily eat me in the non-sexual and non-fun way."

"I would never eat you, m'fhear," Angelus said, and now he looked confused, which wasn't easy for a vampire in gameface to do.

"I know, which is why I'm choosing you."

"You loved Angel more," Anyanka said with confidence. Xander flinched as Angelus' muscles gathered and bunched under the skin. Shit, demons really knew how to poke sore spots.

"Hey, that is not true." Xander sat up, still clutching the sheet around his waist. "I fell in love with both of them, and yeah, it's a little different trying to deal with just one at a time, but if it were just Angel here without Angelus, that would be just as weird, and I would still love him anyway." Xander frowned. He was fairly sure that had come out wrong. Note to self—never imply that he had loved the old Angel with the soul and the demon more than just the demon, because Angelus was straining against the metal cuffs so that his muscles stood out in hard cords under his skin.

Anyanka gave another of her snorts. "Oh please. I've been torturing men for a thousand years, and I still have to watch in awe as he tortures you." Anyanka poked a thumb toward Angelus, which provoked another growl.

But then Angelus shook his head and his human face returned, smiling in that way that made Xander want to yell for people to run and take cover. Angelus smiling had a real creep factor to it. "I've never tortured Xander. If I wanted, I could turn him into a shivering shell of himself, caught between crying for my touch and flinching from it."

Okay, the creepy levels had just risen. "Angelus?"

Angelus looked down, and the smile faded into something more fond. Maybe it wasn't as fond as it was possessive, but it was an expression that Xander recognized. "But I wouldn't do that to you," he promised. He turned back toward Anyanka. "He chose me willingly. You're a vengeance demon—a wish demon. You have no power other than to make a wish come true, and he chose me. Do your work and get out of my lair."

"Men." Anyanka shook her head. "They never change. A century, a millennium, it doesn't matter. And people wonder why I specialize in torturing unfaithful men. I love my work. I'm very good at my work." Anyanka leaned forward and got a thoughtful expression on her face that worried Xander. "But just because I don't normally do this kind of wish doesn't mean that I should neglect you. You are going to get my best work." For the first time, Xander realized that Anyanka's creepy smile looked a lot like Angelus' creepy smile. A little panicked part of his brain wondered if they had sinister classes in demon school.

"So." Anyanka clapped her hands once and stood up. "How sure are you that Angel's soul went up and not down?"

"Oh no. No and more heaping loads of no. I don't want the curse put back on, so that would not be making me happy, which would not be filling the wish."

"Oh, please. The wish was for you to be with someone who could make you happy. Whether you are happy or not is not my concern."

"You'll see your steaming intestines piled at your feet." Angelus went back into gameface, his arms bulging as he fought the chains that imprisoned him.

"Besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to curse someone out of a heavenly dimension? This will absolutely make my reputation." She looked weirdly excited now. "I will be forever known as Anyanka who cursed a soul out of the upper dimensions. I have to say, I was starting to get bored with the vengeance thing—shrivel a penis here, make a man's genitals fall off there, create an alternative reality where a man is a forever locked in the body of a hormonal teenage girl with acne and severe PMS. It all gets so boring after a century or two. But this... I'm actually excited about this."

"But it wouldn't make the wish true. I wouldn't be happy because he'd never talk to me again out of fear that I'd make his soul fall off and he'd kill someone else. And you know that's true. So, you'd end up breaking the whole thousand years of wish-filling with one giantly broken wish!" Xander could feel his heart pound so fast that his ears pounded with the sound. A little part of him wanted Angel back, wanted to beg Anyanka to just make the last few weeks go away. But that little part of him was a selfish bastard because Angel didn't deserve to be tortured, and that's exactly what she was planning to do.

"Trust me, if I curse his soul onto his demon, it's not coming off again. Humans have no business in the curse business because that happiness clause was the most idiotic escape clause I've seen a thousand years. If they wanted to make sure he could never enjoy his happiness, they should have made a fireball clause. But human logic is rarely up to the standards required for a good curse. It takes a special type of human to know how to turn a man into his worst nightmare and then turn his family against him." She got an odd smile on her face.

"You even try this, and I'll make ye pay." Angelus was angry, his body straining against the chains, but he didn't sound as sure yet.

"You asked me to pick, and I'm picking Angelus."

She actually rolled her eyes at him when he said that. "This one can't make you happy, so putting you with him is not fulfilling the wish, and I am not breaking a perfect record of a thousand years for you. You're cute and built very well for a human, but you are not that cute, and I've seen plenty of men with larger cocks, even if yours is rather well formed."

Xander pulled the sheet up higher.

"I make him scream with pleasure and writhe under my hands. The soul never did to him what I can do. It was a fumbling idiot who had nary a good idea in his head. He's mine, so you will give him to me." Angelus pulled so hard that the stud groaned, and Xander was afraid the wall was going to collapse on them. Afraid might have been the wrong word, though, because Xander was actually wishing for it right now. A little death would actually be a good way out of his mess.

Anyanka seemed to stop and think about that. "I actually agree with you about your superior sexual skills. You've been much more fun to watch since the soul left; however, you're emotionally damaging Xander, and that actually doesn't fit his mother's wish, so the soul comes back."

"You can't," Xander said desperately, all logic gone and now he was down to abject begging.

"I hope I can. I mean, cursing someone out of the lower dimensions is easy—open a door and they'll come flying through either to find weaker prey or because they are prey. But if he's in a higher dimension, he'll have to choose to come back. So, I guess we're going to find out how much he is willing to give up for you. I really hope he likes you enough to come back. It's going to be bad for my reputation if I try this and it doesn't work." She stopped for a second, and all Xander could hear was the ominous creaking of the stud as Angelus strained. "If this doesn't work, I wonder if D'Hoffryn would consider it cheating if I killed you. I mean, witnesses would not be good for my rep."

"I'll rip yer guts out and stuff them down your throat." Angelus sounded desperate, but Anyanka just shrugged again.

"Been there, done that. Done that several times actually, although my preference is for making victims eat their genitals instead. Men are oddly attached to their genitals... even more than their intestines." Anyanka closed her eyes, and Xander took a flying leap off the bed. Yeah, his chance of winning the fight was somewhere between 'not going to happen' and 'not a chance in hell,' but he had to try. He was inches from her when cold steel grabbed his wrists, and he was yanked backwards so fast that his shoulder popped and started aching immediately.

"Did you really think you'd win where Angelus couldn't?" Anyanka looked at him like he had lost his mind, and maybe Xander had.

"Not actually, no. But I had to do something." The chains pulled him back up on the bed next to Angelus, and Xander twisted to try and hid his private parts against Angelus' thigh.

"A choi, hush," Angelus said. "What do you want, demon? I have a lot of connections in this town. Magical texts, magical objects, I could provide them. I could give you the heart and blood of a slayer—that is power most demons can never dream of."

Xander's vision darkened as he realized what Angelus was willing to trade away to keep his freedom. Faith, Graham... him. They all existed to make Angelus happy.

"M'fhear?" Angelus' voice was soft, but Xander couldn't open his eyes to look at the man—the monster—he had chosen. The monster who was offering to trade Faith's life away, or maybe he was offering to trade Buffy's life away, and that wasn't any better. Xander realized he'd stopped breathing when he started getting light headed.

"I'd admire your torture technique if you weren't so oblivious." Anyanka sounded a little disgusted. "But hopefully it won't matter in a second."

Xander looked, and Anyanka had a crystal in her hand. It had spires that rose up from the base so that it almost looked like a fantasy castle, and now it was starting to glow a brilliant white. "Please, don't," Xander begged. He pulled against the chains, but he couldn't certainly couldn't pull them loose.

"I have alliances who could prove useful to you!" Angelus said in a voice that might have sounded all silky persuasive to someone else, but it just sounded desperate to Xander. It was weird hearing Angelus sound so desperate.

"Why is it that men always overestimate their own power and attractiveness? I am not attracted to you or your alliances, and both are rather unimpressive." Anyanka got way to much pleasure out of saying that, and then she lifted her hand and the crystal started pulsing with light.

"Angel will leave me. He'll be so afraid of hurting me that he won't be able to make me happy." Xander blurted the words out, not really believing them, but he had to say something. He had to stop this. Oh god, Angel had such a big martyr complex that he ate rats for a hundred years. Coming back to earth for Xander was just going to be one more chalk mark on his issue board—unless heaven had taught him a little more self-respect. Did they teach self-respect in heaven?

"He won't have a chance," Anyanka said mysteriously, her voice strained as the sound of a whistling wind started filling the room. Xander felt the breeze through his hair, and then the whistling grew so loud that he flinched back. The bestial sound of Angelus' growl was a low rumble that Xander almost felt in the pit of his stomach, making him nauseous as the light from the crystal grow.

Xander opened his mouth, but he had used all his words. He didn't know what to say to convince Anyanka to not do this. He didn't have the right words, and he couldn't protect Angel or Angelus from Xander's own selfishness. It was his happiness that was going to destroy both of them.

"Angel!" Xander called out to the air as the wind started blowing hard enough to make his hair tickle across the back of his neck. "Angel, don't come back. I'm okay. I'll take care of things here. I promise I'll take care of things. If you're happy, just stay where you are." Xander screamed the words, but the wind now battered at him and the pitch was so high that it made Xander's ears ache and his eyes water. Angelus' growl was now inaudible, but Xander could feel the vibrations where their legs were pressed together. Even Xander's own words were swallowed by the horrible sound; the other thing Xander could hear was Anyanka's chanting.

The crystal's glow slowly turned from white to a brilliant blue, and Xander looked at Angelus—his face lit from the side by the blue of the crystal and then the room exploded with light. Xander could see Angelus' skeleton, and Xander could feel himself scream in terror. Angelus was going to turn to dust in front of him, and Xander was going to taste the ash of it for the rest of his life, but then the light faded, and Angelus was still on one piece, his eyes glowing white in the suddenly dark room.

"There." Anyanka said with self-satisfaction dripping from her voice.

"Angelus?" Xander whispered, his voice gravel and pain. The chains had vanished. Xander reached out, but froze, his hand dangling in air.

Slowly, Angelus turned to look at him, but the confusion, the pain, the guilt and despair were all Angel.

"Angel?" Xander whispered, hope and horror so tangled in his heart that he couldn't even hope to understand what he was feeling.

Angel looked around the room as if he'd never seen it, like he hadn't spent almost a year living in it. Actually, he looked at it like it horrified him, and he pressed closer to the headboard.

Anyanka gave them both a wide smile. "Well, my work is done. I have people to curse and demons to impress with my powers over the heavenly dimensions, so you two have fun." She was gone before Xander could even gather his thoughts, and then Xander was left with some damaged version of Angel who seemed to just stare at him with horror and pain.


	49. 49

Graham closed the bedroom door behind him. Endgame. Angelus had all of his pieces put away of their little boxes. Everyone except Spike, and Graham had no doubt that he was going to disappear with Cordelia. No way would Cordelia put up with Angelus' mind games. She'd call him out, and two seconds after that, she'd be dead. So this was it. This was the shape of Graham's life for the foreseeable future. And considering how Angelus spoke to Faith, Graham was not sure how this was going to work.

“Babe, you're okay?”

Graham looked at Faith, and for a moment he wasn't sure what to even say. “I should be asking you that.”

“Why? I'm five by five. Little worried about you being in here with the big guy, but you're holding your own.”

“Are you?”

Faith frowned at him like Graham had said something incomprehensible. “I've gotten more bruises sparring with Angel. Hell, I've got more bruises throwing down with Spike.” She grinned at him to let him know how much she’d enjoyed those bruises. “I'm fine.”

Graham moved into the room, closer to Faith. “It's not the bruises of worried about.”

“Oh.” Faith made a face and then she shrugged as if the matter was too small to even bother talking about. “He was poking the daddy issues a little hard.”

“A little? Faith…” Graham stopped he might have a degree in psychology, but he had a feeling that there weren't enough degrees of the world to teach him how to deal with this.

Faith gave him a broad grin. “I'm fine. Fuck, do you really think I'm that breakable?”

“I think we all are if Angelus hits the right buttons.”

The grin fell off Faith's face. “Are you talking about someone in particular or are we just playing with some pessimism?”

Graham rubbed his hand over his face. “I don't know.” They were all so close to some psychological cliff that he didn’t know who he should worry about more. Xander who was trying to turn Angelus into Angel? Wesley who was trying to vanish into the woodwork? Harmony who seemed to think she could annoy Angelus out of killing someone without ending up dead herself? Faith, the woman he loved, who had just been emotionally shredded while he stood by and watched? Worse, he’d knelt for the man who’d done it. He was supposed to be comforting Faith after that brutal psychological attack; instead her arms came around him, holding him close.

“Babe, that was just a little slap and tickle for a demon. Yeah, he threw me.” She shrugged. “But he went out of his way to attack me with words so that he wouldn't have to hit me as hard.”

Graham looked at her. She still looked like Faith, like this beautiful strong woman he'd fallen for. Wesley was a shadow of himself and Xander… If Graham couldn't find a way to fix some of this, Angelus was going to break Xander into so many pieces that the man was never going to recover. But Faith just looked like Faith. Graham let his hands settle at her waist, her body swaying slightly under his touch. She was never completely still, not unless she was asleep.

“When he said that…” Graham could feel his fury rising again. If Xander hadn't taken the knife away from him, he would've shoved it so far in Angelus’ back then he would've been buried wrist-deep in gore.

Faith brought her hands up to cup Graham's face and studied him. “When you told me to run, you meant it.”

“Fuck yes,” Graham agreed.

Faith leaned in and at the same time she pulled him closer until their foreheads rested against each other.” I wouldn't leave you,” she whispered.

“He's counting on that.” The cuff was heavy around Graham's wrist. “You have to promise me that if things go wrong, you have to promise you'll take care of yourself first.”

“Spent a lot of years doing exactly that, Babe. It hasn't turned out well for me. So I think I'll stick with the family. But you—” she gave a huff of laughter and pulled back a little. “You've got to remember that I've got my own touch of demon. What Angelus did down there, that felt a lot like him loving me enough to hold on.”

Graham didn't answer. There wasn’t a psychological theory out there that would allow that to be even a little bit healthy.

“Awww. Now I worried the big bad soldier,” Faith teased.

“A little,” Graham admitted.

Faith stepped back and stretched her body twitching it like a cat that just stood up out of the sun. “I'm fine. Better than, actually. I thought for sure he was to put me in chains and whip the skin off my back.”

Graham didn't say that his fear had included Angelus sleeping with Faith. Emotionally and psychologically, Angelus was still her father. Soul or not, she looked to him for guidance, and Graham just didn't know what would happen if Angelus decided to use sex to cement their bond. Well that just meant that he had a new mission: make sure Angelus understood that having sex with a woman who was essentially your daughter would emotionally destroy her. He had his objective; now he just had to decide how to reach it.

Faith was backing up towards the bed, her body still twisting and twitching. “I think I've missed you even more than running water,” as she said it she stretched her hands over her head so that her shirt lifted up to show a toned midriff.

“That must be true love them,” Graham said with a smile. A little voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like his third-year psychology professor reminded him that sex wasn't going to fix anything. However, it sure wouldn't hurt anything either. Graham moved closer to Faith, his hands reaching for her, his fingers brushing across the bare skin of her stomach. Just then, the door crashed open.

Graham spun around his knife already out of its sheath, and Faith dropped into a fighting crouch. Standing at the open door was Wesley, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his eyes wide.

“She's back.”

Graham's heart drop to about his knees. Fuck. They got Cordelia. As much as Cordelia sometimes annoyed Graham with her attitude, he didn't want to see her in chains. Her or Spike, and if they’d gotten Cordelia, Spike would follow. Angelus might be fairly careful with the rest of them, but he had a history with Spike and a hatred for Cordelia that not going to allow mercy to come into the equation. And Graham was fairly sure that Angelus would kill any of them for trying to get in the middle. That was a problem, because Xander was going to try and get in the middle.

“Who?” Faith demanded.

“Anyanka.”

The name caught Graham so off guard, that for a second he couldn't even process it. Anyanka. The wish demon Anyanka.

“Fuck.” Faith breathed the word, and for a second, no one moved. Then she dashed toward the door, shoving Wesley out of her way so hard that he tumbled back into the hallway and would have fallen if Harmony hadn’t been two steps behind him ready to catch. Graham darted after her. He had no idea what to do when faced with a wish demon, but if Faith was throwing herself in to the middle of the battle, he could, too.

The door to Angelus’ rooms stood open, and Faith crouched outside.

“Hear anything?” Graham whispered, painfully aware that if Angelus caught them spying on his room, they were all going to end up in chains.

Faith shook her head and edged into the sitting area. Despite the sour taste of fear in his mouth, Graham followed.

“Please, don't," Xander’s voice came from the sleeping area, and the rattling that followed could only be chains. Graham froze a half step behind Faith. Shit. He never thought Angelus’ sexual appetites including making Xander beg with such fear and desperation. If anything, Angelus always tried to make Xander happy. He rarely succeeded, but he tried.

"I have alliances who could prove useful to you!" Angelus said, a thin veneer of desperation over a darker anger. Faith turned around to look at Graham who could only shrug. He was officially clueless.

"Why is it that men always overestimate their own power and attractiveness? I am not attracted to you or your alliances, and both are rather unimpressive,” a woman said in a voice that sounded a whole lot like Cordelia, at least in the sort of superior tone she took.

"Angel will leave me. He'll be so afraid of hurting me that he won't be able to make me happy." Xander sounded like he might have a heart attack at any second, and Graham shifted his grip on his knife, prepared for Faith to leap into the room at any time, but she was crouched by the crack of the door, watching without acting.

"He won't have a chance.”

"Angel!" Xander screamed as a whistling sound rose as if the room was having a windstorm. "Angel, don't come back. I'm okay. I'll take care of things here. I promise I'll take care of things. If you're happy, just stay where you are." Chains clinked, at least until the roar of wind grew so loud it drowned it out. Graham moved closer, settling his hand against the small of Faith’s back to let her know he was still here with her. Looking at the door that led into the hall, Graham could see Harmony and Wesley watching with wary eyes.

The roar settled into a whistle and then quieted completely.

"There." The woman sounded very pleased with herself.

“What’s going on?” Graham whispered so softly he wasn’t sure Faith could even hear him.

She tilted her head. “Demon decided to bring back the soul,” she whispered. A wave of relief hit Graham so hard that he nearly went to his knees. The soul was back. Closing his eyes, Graham sent up a prayer of thanks and promised to never again doubt the mercy of God.

"Angel?" Xander voice was calling softly, and Graham’s eyes came open at the tone of horror her could hear. What the hell was going on in that room?

"Well, my work is done,” Anyanka said in a very pleased tone. “I have people to curse and demons to impress with my powers over the heavenly dimensions, so you two have fun."

Graham’s joy froze as he realized what she was saying. She’d pulled Angel’s soul out of heaven. She’d dragged him out of heaven into this… Graham looked around at the terror on Wesley’s face and the tense lines in Faith’s body… this disaster.

“Faith, go,” Graham said, not bothering to whisper.

“I’m not sure… maybe they want…” Faith stood up, clearly no longer on guard. Shoving his knife into its scabbard, Graham rushed past her into the room.

Angel was in the corner, naked and clutching a sheet he’d clearly ripped off the bed. Xander knelt in front of him, hands held out as though in prayer or supplication, but Angel just stared at him as if a kneeling man was the most terrifying site in the world.

“Angel, it’s okay. You’re home. I’m Xander. You remember me, right?” Xander’s voice cracked, the emotion pouring out into every syllable, and Angel flinched back. That led Xander to flinch back as though hit, and then Angel flinched again.

“Xander?” Graham asked, keeping his voice soft. If Angel had been in heaven, Graham wasn’t sure what he thought about being shoved back into the body of a vampire with all the murderous thoughts rattling around in it, but he didn’t want to set Angel off.

“He doesn’t… he acts like he doesn’t know me.” Xander looked up at Graham with such raw pain, but Graham could feel his air go out as though he’d been punched.

“Give him time. Let him adjust,” Graham suggested as he inched forward. Angel had an expression Graham usually saw on people who were mentally ill, unstable and dangerous. Right now he needed to get Xander away, and he could worry about trying to reach Angel once he knew that Xander was safe.

“I told her that I was okay with Angelus. I told her to leave Angel’s soul in heaven.” Xander’s voice had an odd silence in the middle as he tried to suck back in a sob, but the tears flowed anyway. “I didn’t want her to do this.”

“I know,” Graham said softly. None of them consciously wanted to torture Angel by shoving him back into Angelus, but subconsciously… they’d probably all harbored the same fantasy. “Just give him some space,” Graham said as he held out his hand for Xander. Yellow eyes locked onto him, and Graham froze, his hand still outstretched.

“Ye’ll not take him,” Angel roared. Lunging up out of the corner, he reached for Graham.

Dropping his gaze to the floor, Graham tried to stumble back out of the room, but Angel caught him, strong hands dug into his shoulders and something in his right arm popped, sending fire spilling down through the flesh.

“Angel!” Xander pulled on Angel’s arm, yanking at him so hard that Graham could see Angel rock back on his heels, but he didn’t let go.

“What the fuck?” Faith’s voice was behind Graham, and Angel released him so that Graham could fall to his knees, his breath forced out of him by the pain.

“Leave him be,” Angel snarled, and when Graham looked up, Angel was back in the corner, this time Xander trapped behind him as he snarled at Faith.

“Angel? It’s us. Fuck. What the hell is wrong with you?” Faith took a step closer, and Graham could see the coiled fury and fear in every line of Angel’s body.

“Faith, I need you,” Graham said softly.

She turned and looked at him, putting her back to Angel, and for a half second, Graham was terrified that Angel would take that moment to kill her. Maybe Xander had the same thought because he had his arms wrapped tightly around Angel.

“I need some help out of here. Something’s broken,” Graham said as calmly as he could. Faith turned to look at Angel, her body stiffening as she backed away from Angel. As soon as Faith was out of attack range, Angel seemed to lose all interest in her. He turned and brought his hand up to cup the side of Xander’s face.

“You shouldn’t be here. I deserve this. You should be in heaven. They shouldna have sent you to hell.” Angel’s voice broke with a sob as he slid to the ground, pulling Xander down with him.

“What the hell?” Faith asked again, but this time she kept her voice low and moved to kneel next to Graham. “What’s broken, Babe?”

“Left shoulder,” Graham answered. “He thinks this is hell. He thinks he’s trapped in hell.” Compared to heaven, this place was going to look fairly hellish.

“So, what? We’re the demons?” Faith demanded, her face drawn with anger.

“I don’t know if he can even see us. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but we need to give him space,” Graham said as he struggled to stand. His left shoulder and arm burned so badly that Graham couldn’t control a hiss of pain.

Yellow eyes targeted him, watching as Faith tried to help him up.

“Keep him safe,” Graham whispered. If there was some part of Angel that knew what was going on, the first step was to get him to understand they were on the same side. “Keep Xander safe,” Graham repeated.

Faith gave Graham an odd look before she looked at Angel and Xander in the corner. “Yeah, Big-A. Don’t do anything you’ll hate yourself for later. Xander, you okay?”

Xander didn’t answer, and his weak nod wasn’t all that convincing, but Faith gave him a nod of her own before helping Graham out of the room. She toed the door closed once they were clear of the sleeping chamber.

“Is everything okay?” Wesley asked. He hovered at the door, clearly afraid to enter without invitation. Either that or Angelus had used the compulsion of the slave spell to order Wesley out.

“Not even by half. Fuck. He broke Graham.”

“Angelus?” Harmony pushed into the room and reached out for Graham’s arm like she was going to tough it.

“Don’t,” Graham warned. “Wesley, I’m going to need something for the pain. Can you tell if a bone is set straight? I don’t want to go to the hospital, but I may need to.”

“Fuck yes, you need to,” Faith said.

“I’d prefer to not have my right arm in blinding pain seconds after having my left one broken,” Graham pointed out with a look down at the cuff locked around his wrist. Then he looked up at Wesley. “Unless you know how to get it off?”

Wesley shook his head. “Only Master Angelus can do that.”

“Well that may be a problem,” Faith said with a snort.

“Why?” Harmony looked at the connecting door. “What’s going on? Is that Anyanka woman in there? If they’re having a threesome with some—”

“Angel’s soul is back,” Graham cut her off. He might understand that for a minion, not getting sexually used was a sign of disrespect, but he really wasn’t up to dealing with it tonight.

“The soul? Anyanka brought the soul back?” Wesley sucked in a breath, and Graham could see the hope etched into his face. Then he looked at Graham oddly. “What exactly happened, then, with your arm.”

Graham leaned into Faith and glanced at the closed door. “The soul’s been in heaven, Wesley. Compared to that, he thinks this is hell.”

“Oh dear,” Wesley said, taking a step back as though physical distance from the problem would save him from it.

“What’s wrong with that?” Harmony asked.

“The problem is that if he thinks this is hell, he seems to think we’re the demons sent to torture him and Xander. He’s in there protecting Xander from us,” Graham said.

“Fucking martyr complex,” Faith muttered, but then she urged him toward the hall. “Wesley, get the pain killers. And can you set a bone?”

“A leg bone, certainly. With a collarbone, I would likely cause internal damage and kill Mr. Miller.”

Collarbone? Graham tried to look down to see how bad the break was that Wesley could identify a collarbone break from halfway across the room.

“Don’t look, Babe. Just don’t look,” Faith said, raising her hand to block his movement, but not before the searing white pain left him stumbling. Harmony grabbed him by the waist and Faith caught his injured arm, cradling it close to his body. “Wesley, you get on that computer. You call Spike, you call Finn, you call anyone you fucking want, but I want an expert on human injury here within an hour or I’m taking it out of your hide.” Fast footsteps suggested that Wesley was running to obey. Normally Graham would tell Faith to be a little more careful of the man, but the pain was distracting him.

“Do you want me to…?”

Graham gasped as he struggled to push the pain to one side.

“I’ve got him,” Faith said. Graham didn’t figure out what she meant until he found himself getting carried for the second time in about a week.

“This is doing bad things to my male ego,” he hissed out between clenched teeth. The adrenaline that had protected him from fully feeling the pain at the time of the injury was wearing off, and he was just now starting to understand how badly he’d been hurt.

“Tough shit. Deal with it,” Faith suggested without much sympathy. “If Wesley doesn’t find someone soon, I’m knocking you out and dragging you to the hospital, cuff or no,” she warned him.

Graham nodded. “Good. Just make sure you knock me out good enough to keep me down,” he suggested. Faith kicked a door, and Graham near threw up as the up and down movement in her arms made his world spin.

“Just don’t move, okay?” Faith asked as she settled him flat on the bed. Graham wanted to curl up in pain, but he gave a short nod that made the fire in his shoulder burn brighter. Yeah, he was out of the game for a while. Hopefully someone else would figure out how to solve this mess because he wasn’t going to be solving anything. Graham just focused on breathing as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Somewhere in there he realized the irony. Angelus had always been careful with him physically. Angel had clearly broken something rather important. Graham really hoped that wasn’t some sort of sign.


	50. 50

Spike stopped just inside the doors of the Hyperion. He was ninety percent sure Wesley’s message was a trap, but even if it was, enough was enough. They’d been run to ground too many times. Cordelia and Blair could disappear places Spike couldn’t. They could run during the day and get on a bloody airplane without worrying about getting turned to dust. Since Angelus hadn’t made any secret out of the fact that all he really wanted now was Spike, it was time for Spike to take his lumps and let the others jack themselves free of the mess. Once Angelus had whipped him raw and raped him a few dozen times, Spike would get his way back into his sire’s good graces. He always had.

A minion snarled at him, and Spike slammed a stake into its heart before it could blink. Too bad. He’d done it too fast for the others to notice, so he’d just have to make his point a little clearer.

“Olly, olly, all in free,” he sang. “Security around here isn’t worth shite. Who do you have to dust to get a little attention?”

A half dozen minions threw themselves at him, but Spike hadn’t dusted more than four before the others started backing away. Under other circumstances, Spike might have chased them down to dust them, but if this was Angelus’ trap, he wanted to stay focused. It wouldn’t help him much, but he was determined to get in a few good hits before he went down.

“Spikey!!” a voice sang from the top of the stairs. Spike cringed at the sight of Harmony sailing down the stairs, her arms open like she was going to sodding hug him. Daft bint. “I’ve missed you so much.” Ignoring Spike’s death glare, Harmony actually fucking hugged him. “The master is waiting. He wants to see you,” she said with a smile as she backed away, but Spike frowned. There was something in her expression that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“That right?” he asked as he brushed his shirt off. Harmony had a bad habit of wearing lotions and shit that had glitter, and if he had one sparkle on him, he was dusting her—trap or no trap.

“Yep. Wesley promised to get you right away. Oh, but Angelus and Xander were having sex.” She leaned in closer like she was sharing a secret. “Angelus likes sex. A lot. You should wait until he’s done having sex first.”

Spike stared at her, wondering, and not for the first time, whether some demon other than a vampire had gotten into her as she lay dying. Spike knew full well that sometimes a vampire didn’t turn out violent. Angelus had beaten him enough for that very flaw. However, Spike had never seen a vampire turn out like Harmony. He hadn’t even heard of one.

“You should go see Faith and Graham. They’re home too. Just about everyone is home now,” Harmony finished, smiling at the minions and assorted demons gathered in the lobby. In a distant corner, a minion muttered about the fact that someone needed to put Harmony down. Spike didn’t even bother to turn and look before he flung a stake into the corner. The screams that followed meant he missed the heart.

“Bugger it all,” Spike said, pushing past Harmony. Behind him, there was a puff and the screaming stopped, so someone had put the minion down. “Next one ta talk out of turn dies a lot slower than that,” Spike warned as he got to the top of the stairs. “If I want some minion alive and screaming, you lot let him scream, got it?” Spike demanded. It was better than letting them think he’d missed. Some minions nodded—others vanished into the shadows. Good. They needed fewer minions around.

Spike headed for Faith’s room. The scent of blood and magic swirled heavily in the air, and his eyes just about watered when he opened the door. Wesley knelt next to the bed with some magical incense that made Spike’s skin crawl and Faith paced the room, a cigarette in hand.

“Spike.” Faith said his name the way someone else might say a prayer, and for a half-second, Spike considered preening in that praise. Then he caught sight of Graham.

“Fuck. What, the idiot couldn’t keep his bloody head down?” Heading for the bed, Spike tried to see how bad the break was. The skin was purpling and an end of the broken collarbone stuck out at an odd angle, threatening to poke through the skin at any point. Graham’s breathing was shallow and had a sort of wet rattle way down deep that was bothersome. “Get the bedspread on that side. We need to lift him down to the floor,” Spike said, pulling the bedding out on his side. Faith just about shoved Wesley to the side as she hurried to do the same. “Angelus order him to stay here?” Spike asked. Hopefully not. Spike wasn’t sure what was broken or how easy it would be to fix him. He needed to go to hospital.

“The cuff causes him pain if he leaves,” Wesley answered. Faith and Spike got Graham to the ground and Spike started feeling around the injury. His collarbone had snapped like a twig. The fucking soldier was just lucky the broken end hadn’t cut through a vein.

“How much pain?” Spike asked Wesley.

“Thrashing and screaming sorts of pain,” Wesley said, his voice tight with emotion.

“Fuck.” Spike grimaced. “That’d kill him. We need to stabilize the bone. I’ll get it in place.” Spike looked over at Wesley. The man was gaunt, but he had a steel to him that he hadn’t before. Sometimes prey was like that. You thought you had a soft one, and the first sign of pain and hardship, and they toughened right up. “Do you have anything to make the bone knit? We need to get it stable before the ragged edges cut something we can’t fix.”

“I have a potion,” Wesley said, but the doubt on his face made Spike wait for the other shoe to drop. “Last time I used it, he screamed and thrashed a lot.”

“That’s out then. Go get something that will hold the bone in place—potion or spell,” Spike ordered. He’d suggest calling 9-1-1, only he didn’t think a riot in the lobby with minions scrambling to eat the paramedics would help much. If they got the bone set, Spike could actually drain off some of the blood gathering in the joint easy enough. That would stabilize him for the time being, unless the bone had already done some sort of lung damage.

Wesley nodded and got up.

“Nine minutes,” Spike called after him. “You be back in nine minutes.”

“Yes, master,” Wesley said. He cringed at his own word choice, but Spike would play the bloody master if it got things done.

“Right then, what the fuck happened? Wesley talked like Angel is back in his message.”

Faith nodded. “He is.”

Spike frowned. This was a new wound. If Angel was back, that wasn’t making a penny’s worth of sense.

“He was in heaven, Spike. He thinks this is hell.” Faith bit her lip. It wasn’t a gesture Spike was used to seeing on her.

“This fucking well is hell,” Spike said briefly. “Watch soldier-boy,” Spike said as he got up. “Is Angel in his room?”

Faith nodded. “With Xander.”

Spike felt his guts knot with worry. “Is Xander still in one piece?”

Faith nodded again, her fingers resting on Graham’s arm. “Yeah. Graham was trying to get him to back away from Angel and give him some space.”

Spike snorted and didn’t point out that Graham was thick as pig shite if he thought taking Xander away would calm Angel down. Instead he just headed for Angel’s room. His demon wanted to rage and rip and tear. Angel had hurt Graham, maybe fatally if that ragged bone edge cut something vital or if the fluid built up in his lungs. He’d left Wesley gaunt and Faith nearly trembling with fear. He was holding Xander, a boy Spike had broken in, who had submitted, who had laid under Spike’s hands. The demon raged at all the insults, but Spike didn’t have illusions. As long as Angel was feeding on human blood and working out, Spike wasn’t going to beat him without a whole lot of luck on his side.

Treading softly, Spike pushed open the door that connected the sitting room with the sleeping area. Angel was rocking in the corner, his body bent at awkward angles. It took Spike a second to realize that he was holding Xander. For a brief second, Spike’s demon slipped free, his rage poured out at the fear that Angel had killed Xander. Xander’s upper body lay in Angel’s lap, arms hanging limply.

Xander turned his head, and brown eyes found his, eyes full of confusion.

“Shhh, a choi,” Angel muttered. “It’s illusion. It’s all illusion. I’ll protect you.” Angel pulled Xander closer. Well, fuck. The soul might be back, but it brought a few bats to hang out in the belfry.

“Peaches,” Spike said softly. Angel paused in his rocking. Xander brought his hands up to touch Angel’s shoulders, but the second he made contact, Angel shivered and vamped out.

“No problem. No problem,” Xander said and he let his hands fall awkwardly to his sides again. “Hey, I have an idea. Does anyone want to get on the bed?”

“They shouldna have sent you here. Won’t let them hurt you.” Angel looked around the room with yellow eyes, and for the first time in a hundred years, Spike found himself utterly flummoxed. Usually he could come up with a plan for any situation. Oh, it might not be a particularly good plan, but he could come up with a plan. Right now, he had no idea what to do.

“Peaches, you’re on Earth. The boy’s been here the whole time, so he’s pretty good at protecting himself.” Spike crouched down near the door, his hand holding the door so he could get out fast, slamming the door behind him if need be. This version of Angel was feeling more dangerous than Angelus, truth be told.

“I’m not sure all of him is on Earth. He seems to kinda have his own world here, Spike,” Xander said. “And my back is hurting.”

“Not surprised, pet. He’s holding you odd, that’s for sure.”

Angel’s eyes found Spike and suddenly Angel snarled like a dog and pulled Xander to his chest.

“Hey, human bones here. Take it easy.” Xander’s hand rested on Angel’s shoulder and Angel surged up, his eyes darting from Xander’s hand where it rested against his shoulder to Spike and back, but he continued to hold Xander tightly to his chest. “And now I’m feeling emasculated,” Xander complained, his voice muffled from being pressed to Angel.

Spike glanced back out at the hall. He should go deal with Graham, but this wasn’t a version of Angel he trusted. He could kill Xander without even understanding what he was doing.

“Mate, you have to let humans breathe. Do you remember breathing?” Spike asked, modeling it by taking a deep breath and letting it out. Angel snarled louder.

“Seriously, he’s better when you guys aren’t helping. Give him some space,” Xander said.

Spike’s pressed his lips together and debated with himself for a few seconds. “If you let him kill you, I’m bloody chasing you into the next life and whipping you raw,” Spike threatened. The words were no more out of his mouth than Angel threw himself forward.

Even though Spike had been prepared to run for it, he still barely had time to clear the door and kick it closed. Angel slammed into the door so hard that the frame shivered and something made a crunching sound. Spike curled his hands into claws and picked the best spot in the sitting room to defend himself as he watched the doorknob, waiting for it to turn. Fuck, he was an idiot. He was dumber than pig shite. He was dumber than Graham. Angel was feeling threatened, and he had to go and offer to take a whip to the boy. Well, at least they knew Angel was processing and understanding language somewhere under all that feral growling.

Spike braced for Angel to come out and attack, and Spike suspected he’d have to fight for his life. Instead Angel hit the door again, and this time a couple of books fell off the shelves and clattered to the floor. A few more hits, and Spike realized that Angel couldn’t get to him. “Daft bugger,” Spike muttered as he backed up toward the hall. If Angel could figure out how to use a door knob, they might all be in trouble. Spike closed the door to the sitting room and found Harmony waiting for him.

“Does he need anything?” She had that hopeful look on her face as if having something to offer would make her the happiest little vamp in the world.

“Find the key and lock that door,” Spike said, poking his thumb toward Angel’s door.

“On it,” Harmony agreed with a wide smile as she rushed down the hall.

Spike stood in the middle of the empty hall listening to the minions mill about below him. Thankfully Xander had soundproofed Angel’s room or he really would think he was in hell. Angelus hadn’t chosen the best and brightest minions, that’s for sure. They were an argumentative lot, and Spike could hear several of them making fun of Harmony as she hurried through the first floor.

What the fuck was he supposed to do? He hated courts. The only time he’d tried to run a court had been Sunnydale, and that had just turned out just bloody lovely. The fucking Mayor had corrupted most of his minions, Dru turned him out, and he’d eaten Xander’s little slayer friend. Actually, that last one had been the bright spot of his time as Master of the Hellmouth, but he couldn’t exactly go bragging about that without both Xander and Angel threatening to brood their way through the fucking week. But always before, when one of his plans went belly-up he could just move on. He never feared making a right bollocks out of something because he could just leave the disaster behind. He’d shoved around most of Europe and Asia that way, both with and without Dru. He didn’t want a soddin’ court. Only now, he had one, and he couldn’t see any way to get out easy. They couldn’t even run for it with Angel and Graham both down for the count.

They couldn’t run and he had no bloody idea how he was supposed to deal with an Angel who’d clearly gone ‘round the twist. He’d call for Cordelia to come back, only he didn’t know where she was. He’d given her strict orders to head for the hills and wait to see what the scuttlebutt was on the court before showing her face. So, he didn’t have a lot of choices. The second Angel was back on his feet, though…. Spike was going to bloody torture the vamp until he remembered that he had bloody duties that he was supposed to fucking tend to. With a scowl, he strode back to Faith’s room.

Wesley was back, a huge book laid open next to Graham. “I found a spell. If you can hold the bone straight, I think I can get it to set.”

“Make sure you can,” Spike said. This was going to hurt like hell, and if Graham woke up and thrashed about, that bone was going to hit a vein or artery for sure. But he was too weak for pain spells.

Wesley’s back stiffened. “This will work,” he said firmly, showing that hint of steel at his core. “It has to. That git Finn emailed back and he is declining to get involved.” Wesley’s face twisted with anger.

“He probably figures it’s a trap,” Spike said. He couldn’t really blame Finn, especially given that Finn had ordered Graham to leave, and Graham had chosen to follow Spike’s orders instead. Graham wasn’t theirs, anymore. They weren’t going to go out of their way to put their own people at risk to help him. That left the clan to take care of him.

“The spell is ready,” Wesley said with a sort of formality that didn’t really match the mood. Faith stood by the window, her hands trembling, and Spike put his knees on either side of Graham’s head and used his fingers to probe the wound. There was swelling enough to do some real joint damage, but first they had to get this bone stabilized. Funny, he’d learned most of what he knew about the human body by breaking them. Putting them back together—that had been a sport that Angelus had only indulged when he wanted to torture some poor bloke more. Now Spike felt a cold desperation that he might muck this up, and he didn’t know what would happen to Angel or Faith if Graham went and died. Spike dug his fingers into the purpling flesh, pushing at the broken bone. He could feel flesh yielding and muscle straining.

“Luv, if this goes wrong, am I letting him die or turning him?” Spike asked Faith. She turned and looked at him, her eyes large with panic. Right then, she wasn’t up for any big life and death decisions. “Nevermind. We need the clan strong. He dies, and he’s getting elected the first fledge of the clan,” Spike said. After that, he concentrated on getting the bone straight. He’d make Graham a fledge if need be, but if he did that, Angel was going to birth kittens just as soon as he found where he’d left the rest of his mind. Giving Wesley a nod, Spike held the bone in place as Wesley started to chant. The feel of magic skittered across his skin like spiders.


	51. 51

Xander’s butt was sore and his back was aching, but he continued to sit in the corner while Angel crouched in front of him, his head swiveling from one side to another like he expected some enemy to come floating through the walls. Morning light made the window shade glow amber, and Angel kept studying the glowing square in a way that made Xander more than a little nervous. If Angel went sunbathing, Xander was going to find Anyanka and… and he’d probably get his ass kicked, but he’d go down trying to make her pay. Angel’s attention drifted away from the window and back toward the bathroom.

Looking over at the bed, Xander considered making another try for it. He’d be more comfortable. Xander pushed an inch out of his corner and Angel’s yellow eyes swung around to him. “Quiet, m’fhear. The demons are close,” Angel hissed. Reaching out, he caught Xander’s shoulder and slammed him back into the corner again. Xander flinched as his bruised shoulder got rebruised. At this rate, he was going to be one giant bruise before they were done. One giant disgusting bruise because he seriously needed to pee, and he was about to pee on himself. He had no idea how Angel would react to that.

“Yeah, great job Anyanka,” Xander complained softly. Then again, she had said that she didn’t care if he was happy, only that he had a chance at happiness. Xander eyed Angel. He could feel that chance slipping away. The door clicked, and Xander looked up. If Spike was back, Xander was going to stake the giant idiot himself, at least if Angel didn’t kill him first. Angel’s inability to open a door had saved him last time, but Xander was pretty sure that Angel had figured it out. Either that or he was just enjoying staring at the doorknob. A lot. Right now, Xander wasn’t sure what Angel was thinking.

Angel started growling and he caught Xander by the back of the neck, pulling him so close that Xander’s face was smushed against Angel’s chest. Normally naked touching was of the good, but naked touching with a clearly insane Angel was just a little odd.

The door opened with a slow, soft creaking sound that Angel’s growl nearly drowned out. Despite the fact that Xander expected another short and brutal fight like with Graham and Spike, nothing happened. Angel’s growl slowly lessened and the arms around Xander loosened. Maybe Angel was improving. As soon as Xander had enough room to breathe more easily, he brought a hand up and rested it against Angel’s chest. Angel’s cock immediately started hardening, he just as quickly vamped out, and Xander was thrust in the corner with a nice view of Angel’s back. Again. Shit.

“If I can’t ever touch you again, this is going to be a really weird relationship,” Xander warned. “Weirder, anyway.”

A soft chuckle answered him. Xander leaned to the side and through the open door, he could see Blair sitting against the door that led out to the hall. Naked Blair. Weirdly calm naked Blair. Considering that Angel had driven Graham and Spike out, Xander wasn’t feeling too good about having Blair on this side of a closed door. He was even less okay with the fact that Blair was naked, his eyes closed and his head tilted back. Angel, though, seemed weirdly accepting of it. He went back to scanning the room.

Xander shifted, and Angel immediately pressed back, his body pinning Xander against the wall so that Xander had to concentrate to breathe. With a sigh, Xander gave up and just waited for something to happen. Maybe his bladder would give out or Blair would launch some brilliant plan, but at this point, anything was better than sitting in the corner. When Angel gave him a couple of inches of space, Xander sank to the ground, drawing his knees up in front of him. After a second, Angel crouched down in front of him, and Xander could see Blair still doing his meditation thing. Yep, weirdness levels were up all over the place.

Time crawled by, and Xander dozed, his head resting against the wall.

“I see dark burgundy walls and two heavy doors,” Blair said softly. Angel’s growl grew more ominous for a moment, but then he settled into a soft grumble of warning. Blair was silent for a few moments before he continued. “I see bookshelves you helped Xander carry out of the basement. I see your first edition of Count of Monte Cristo. I see the television. Xander likes to make you watch really bad movies.” Blair sounded amused by that. Angel’s growl got a little louder, but Blair kept his eyes closed and his voice soft.

“I see the bed you share with Xander. I see the robe you wore when Spike broke the railing on the second floor and you came running out. I see the hardwood floor you picked out with Xander. You didn’t like the pine. I think Xander didn’t like it either, but he liked threatening to give you bright yellow floors. I see the dark sheets Cordelia bought. She has the same kind on her bed. One time, you got Spike’s sheets on your bed, and Xander told me how aggravated you were all day.” Blair’s smile grew wider, but his eyes stayed closed. Angel’s growl, however, was reaching dangerous levels.

Maybe Blair knew that because he fell silent. He’d crossed his legs when he first sat down, and now he turned his hands so they were palm up as he breathed so deeply and slowly that Xander could see each inhalation. Okay, Blair’s plan clearly included boring Angel to death.

Xander waited until Angel’s growl had subsided before he tried. “I see the slippers I bought you that—” Xander stopped when Angel turned on him, his growl terrifying as he grabbed Xander and pressed him close to his chest. “And I’m really tired of you doing this,” Xander said as his bladder threatened to empty on Angel’s legs.

“Calm. Be calm. He hears the fear.” Blair had to speak louder to get his voice heard over Angel’s growling, and before Xander could do anything—like grab Angel’s arm and hold on for dear life—Angel whirled around and leaped at Blair. Xander gasped, fear making his whole body stiff. Angel was going to tear Blair into little, tiny, bloody pieces.

Blair continued to sit with his hands on his knees as Angel growled right in his face. He didn’t even open his eyes. Xander held his breath. If Blair was right that Angel could hear the fear in Xander’s voice, Xander had a sudden urge to give up talking. He could become a monk. Hell, if Angel kept up this strange unwillingness to be touched, monkdom wasn’t out of the question, so he could start working on his vows of silence.

Angel grabbed Blair and pulled him upright before shoving him back down onto the ground, this time on his back. And the whole time, Blair didn’t react at all. Xander knew that sometimes Spike had a habit of assuming Blair wasn’t as strong because he didn’t want to swing a sword, but right now, Xander figured Blair was the strongest man Xander knew. He took the shaking without the sorts of girly screaming Xander would have resorted to. Angel slammed Blair into the floor two or three times, Blair’s arms flopping like a doll’s. That seemed to make Angel happy because he left Blair on the floor and came back through the connecting door to the sleeping area. Before Angel decided to do any more slamming, Xander retreated to the corner.

Now he could only see Blair’s feet, but it didn’t look like Angel had broken anything major. Hopefully. Xander wasn’t surprised when Angel caught him up and held him close. Xander was starting to feel a little like a teddy bear. Considering how Xander’s teddy bear had ended up—torn and worn with the stuffing falling out one missing foot—that wasn’t a comforting thought.

“I sent him away, a choi. He’s gone. He’ll not disturb us again. Shhhhh,” Angel comforted him. That might work if it was Blair that scared Xander. It wasn’t. For a long time, they all settled into silence. The light against the shades grew brighter, and Xander’s bladder grew painful, but it was quiet.

“I see a copy of Xander’s electrician’s manual,” Blair said quietly from the front room. The foot that Xander could see didn’t move. “I see a picture of Xander and Willow and Buffy when they look way too young.” Blair had some amusement in his tone now. Xander was surprised that Angel wasn’t growling, but he wasn’t. “I see a pile of papers in the corner. I see an old fashioned pocket watch on the dresser. I am so thinking that’s yours Angel. Xander is not the pocket watch type.”

Xander watched as Angel’s eyes moved to track each item as Blair described it. “I see Xander in the corner. He’s safe, Angel.”

Now Angel growled. “No, he’s not. I’ll keep him safe.” That wasn’t making much sense, not even to Xander who wasn’t exactly good friends with logic.

“He is as safe as he can be in this world,” Blair corrected himself. “He’s not hurt.”

“Liar!” Angel snarled, and that sounded a whole lot like Angelus.

Blair fell silent for a time, and Angel kept a steady growl going. “Xander, are you hurt?” Blair asked, his voice softer than ever.

“I have to pee,” Xander answered. At this point, he had to pee bad enough that it was reaching hurting levels. His arm was bruised, and his guilt—oh his guilt was piled on so deep that he was going to be shoveling it for the next decade—however, right now his bladder had priority.

“Then pee,” Blair said. The exasperation in his voice seemed to aggravate Angel who growled louder.

“Hey, make him let me into the bathroom, and I’d be glad to,” Xander pointed out.

“Just pee,” Blair said. Now he really sounded tired. Xander reached out to catch Angel’s arm before he decided to go out and throw Blair around some more. Angel whirled around, flinching from Xander’s touch even as his cock hardened. Xander saw therapy in their future. Lots and lots of therapy. He also saw a floor sander and a lot of varnish if he peed on hardwood.

With a sigh, Xander gave up the fight with his bladder. He peed, the yellow stream splashing against the dark wood between him and Angel. Instead of flinching back, Angel looked at him with confusion, like he couldn’t figure out what the hell Xander was doing. Letting the pressure off his bladder felt so good that Xander sighed in relief, the pleasure making him sag back against the wall. “Oh so good,” Xander said, even if he had made a disgusting mess.

Angel tilted his head and moved closer. “Ewww,” Xander said softly when Angel stepped in the puddle he’d made. Angel’s hand came up to touch Xander’s cheek.

“I see Xander. He’s just human. I see him standing in the middle of the bedroom he renovated for you.” Blair was standing at the door that separated the sitting room from the sleeping area. “I see Xander, Angel. What do you see?”

Angel’s gaze focused on Xander, his head tilted so that Xander knew he heard Blair even if he wasn’t looking at him. Actually, right now it was good that he wasn’t looking at Blair.

“I see pain,” Angel said softly. “Trapped, locked in a hurting shell.” Angel ran his fingers over the curve of Xander’s neck, pressing them for a moment against Xander’s pulse point. “Trapped,” Angel echoed. “I don’t want you trapped,m’fhear.” Angel pulled Xander close, but this time, the arms held Xander without threatening to crush him.

“We all spend time in a body, Angel. It sucks, but that’s the way of life. We’ll get out eventually, but how can we appreciate being free without a little time trapped?” Blair asked. Angel looked over at Blair like he’d just lost his mind. Blair shrugged. “Think of it like a baby in its mother’s womb. It has to spend time trapped in there before it can be born. It’s small and cramped, but it’s normal Angel.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not. It’s dark and it hurts.”

“Well, I think we can safely say you don’t get to brood about whether you’ve earned redemption,” Blair said with some amusement. Angel growled loudly, and Blair backed up a step. “Whoa, hey, you know me. I just talk. That’s what happens on Earth, Angel. You’re back on Earth.”

Angel looked around, and for the first time since Anyanka’s spell, Xander had the feeling he was actually seeing the room. “Home?” he asked.

Xander carefully brought his hand up to rest it against Angel’s arm. Angel shivered, his whole body trembling, but he didn’t shake off Xander’s touch. “Welcome home. And can I just say now how very sorry I am? Totally and completely sorry because you earned your spot in heaven. Or maybe earn is the wrong word since Father Peter always gets upset about it when you talk about earning heaven, but… but I lost my point in there somewhere,” Xander finished.

“You… you needed me.” Angel turned, still holding Xander carefully close, and Xander cringed at the feeling of water under his feet. “I… I did something.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Xander said. He let his hands rest against Angel’s hips, and Angel had another full body shiver. Maybe it was a little too soon to talk about heaven and hell stuff. “Blair, why are you naked?”

Blair shrugged. “When in Rome…. We anthropologists are big on respecting native cultures.”

“Okay, as one of the natives, I’d love it if you got dressed,” Xander said. In theory, he had no problem with naked Blair. In reality, it was more than a little freaksome to see his tutor naked.

“Cool,” Blair said and he turned to leave. “You two need some time. I’ll tell Spike to keep his nose out of here.”

“Yeah, do,” Xander agreed. Angel clearly needed calm, and Spike and calm were two things that went together as well as vinegar and baking soda. Explosions were just going to happen. Blair nodded and closed the door behind him as he headed into the hall.

“Spike?” Angel asked, sounding the word out like it was difficult for him to understand.

“Spike, your overactive kid,” Xander said. “Or grandkid. Sometimes you claim him, but when he comes home dragging arq snot across the floors, you generally blame Dru.”

“Spike.” Angel repeated the word. Slowly letting go of Xander, he backed up until he could sit on the bench at the end of the bed. “Spike and Drusilla.” Angel said the names like he wasn’t sure.

“It used to be,” Xander said. “Then it was Spike and Faith, which was all kinds of freaksome. Now it’s Spike and Cordelia, which is even freakier.”

“Cordelia.” Angel rested his elbows against his knees and let his head hang. Yeah, he had figured out they weren’t in hell, but his brain was not fully engaged.

“Cordelia runs the hotel and Spike threatens people.”

Angel’s head came up. “Threatening people is wrong.”

Xander thought about that for a second. He really tried to put himself in the shoes of someone who had just gotten thrown overboard out of heaven. He definitely couldn’t see heavenly beings threaten each other. “In a perfect world, yes,” Xander said, wishing they weren’t having this conversation when he hadn’t slept at all. “But in this world, sometimes you have to threaten people who are doing the wrong thing, like not paying Cordelia. That would be very wrong.”

Angel seemed to think about that for a while his yellow eyes studying Xander. “This world isn’t perfect,” Angel said slowly.

“Not even close,” Xander agreed. “I’m not perfect. Sometimes you threaten me because I’m doing something really stupid. Like when I was all mentally unhealthy boy after Faith and I slept together, you threatened me to get me to go to therapy. That threat was actually good.”

“Threats are good?” Angel looked not only confused but weary.

“Only sometimes,” Xander said. Angel might not remember everything, but unless he’d had a personality transplant in heaven, he was definitely going to take everything Xander said way too literally. “Threatening people when you’re trying to help them can be good. Or threatening people who are doing something bad and you’re trying to stop the bad, that’s good.”

Angel’s expression cleared, but then something darker started shadowing his eyes. “I threatened people.”

“Well, yeah,” Xander agreed. Angel had threatened people on a fairly regular basis.

“I threatened the man in the basement.” Now the self-loathing was pretty clear. Xander hadn’t ever seen Lindsey, but he’d heard a few snippets of stories that made him think that the lawyer wasn’t having the best month. And honestly, Xander didn’t know what to tell Angel. That had been Angelus, and Lindsey wasn’t exactly the innocent sort, but from what Xander had heard, the threats had been less threat-like and more torture-like, and torture was on the not-good list almost always. If Xander were a better man, he’s say torture was always on the no-list, but then Jenny Giles was still out there, so Xander planned to keep his options open.

Angel looked up at Xander, horror on his face. “I threatened Graham. I hurt him.”

“You threatened him. Wolfram and Hart hurt him.

“I sent them.” Clearly Angel was working his way up to a major brood—the sort of brood he hadn’t gone on since those early days back in the apartment in Sunnydale. And honestly, Xander hadn’t always liked Angel back then. Truthfully, he disliked Angel about 60 percent of the time.

With a sigh, Xander sank down next to Angel on the bench. “Not something you would have done in heaven, huh?”

Angel looked at him with wide brown eyes. Xander guessed that was a ‘no.’

“Hey, I would love to talk about heaven and hell and morality, only right now I’m dirty and tired and having a minor nervous breakdown. Is there any chance we could maybe wait until we’d had a couple of hours of sleep?”

“Sleep?” Angel just looked confused. Either heaven had done a partial mind wipe, or time didn’t work exactly the same way and he’d been up there a while. Xander stared at Angel, not sure where to even start. How did you explain sleep?

“Does it feel good when you close your eyes?” Xander asked, closing his own eyes. “Are your eyes stinging so that when you close them it doesn’t hurt as much?” Xander opened his eyes and saw that Angel had closed his. “Are you feeling sort of off-balance, like you can’t quite keep your balance?”

“Feet are awkward,” Angel agreed amiably without opening his eyes. Xander thought having feet was probably better than not having feet, but he wouldn’t argue the point right now.

“That means you’re tired. You want to lie down somewhere soft and close your eyes and let your body rest.” Xander avoided the whole going unconscious thing because he suspected Angel would freak out.

“Sleep.” Angel’s eyes came open. “It’s dangerous to sleep. You sleep and your sire attacks a gypsy clan, brings them back to the lair.”

“Um… if you had a sire. Your sire is gone, and Spike will not be attacking any gypsies,” Xander said. “This is home. This is where we can sleep. At least, we can sleep after getting some towels to soak up the mess and washing off. Pee and hardwood are not friends,” Xander said, looking sadly over at the yellow pool slowly sinking into his beautiful floor.

“The world is so fragile,” Angel said sadly.

“Yep, which is why we have to take care of it,” Xander said. He got up slowly, watching as Angel’s eyes followed him. Xander had backed away about three steps when Angel got up and shadowed him step for step, but Angel didn’t stop him. Using a washcloth, Xander wiped down his legs and feet before toweling them off. Angel watched silently, his eyes following every twitch. When Xander grabbed every towel in his arms, Angel tilted his head to the side, not even hiding his confusion. Xander knew he confused Angel all the time, but mostly Angel hid it rather than risk a lecture on the relative merits of Star Wars versus Star Trek. Now things were different. Angel was different. Their relationship was different. A wave of grief swept through Xander, hitting him so hard that he stopped in the door to the bathroom. For a moment, he stood with a half dozen oversized towels in his arms. Then Angel stepped close, his hand came up to gently rest against Xander’s shoulder.

“Fragile,” Angel said, his voice thick with sorrow.

“Fragile,” Xander agreed. He didn’t know if he was agreeing that the world was fragile or that he was, but both were true enough. Forcing his body into motion, Xander went over and started laying down towels to soak up the pee. Once they were all down, Xander thought about finishing the job, about hauling the towels downstairs to the laundry. Angel’s hand slowly curled around Xander’s arm.

“You need sleep,” Angel said, pulling at Xander. But this time, his hands were gentle, not like when he’d shoved Xander into the wall over and over. Abandoning the mess on the floor, Xander let Angel pull him back to the bed he’d last shared with Angelus. The bed where he’d decided he’d have to stake Angelus. The bed where he’d betrayed Angel and pulled him out of heaven by loving him too much. Xander’s eyes were hot and they itched, but Angel pulled him onto the bed and grabbed the covers. “Sleep,” Angel said again, his fingers stroking over Xander’s cheek before he traced the edge of Xander’s eyelids, forcing him to close his eyes. Despite the guilt and the fear and the memories that clung to him like chunky, yellow snot, Xander felt himself slide toward sleep.


	52. 52

Angel watched as the door slid open, a sickly line of light cutting through the constant darkness. The light wasn’t right though. It didn’t shine or warm his heart. It only made the shadow darker. It reminded him of a Giovanni Baglione he’d seen with the blonde vampire on his arm. They’d laughed at the human view of sex and love, but now… now Angel was almost certain that Xander understood this shadow world better than the vampire who had walked so long in it. A shadow person appeared, and Angel held Xander closer, careful to not bruise that shadow body. Even now he could feel the warmth gathering in the skin where Angel had hurt him, but Xander hadn’t complained at all.

“Blair said I should clean the mess.” The shadow woman came farther in. Harmony. She was Harmony. Angel remembered his hands holding her down, his fingers tangled in her hair as he drove his cock deep into her.

“I took ye,” Angel said softly, not sure whether the memory was real. Memory and fantasy were hard to distinguish, but he was almost sure he wouldn’t have fantasized about taking Harmony.

“Yep,” she agreed with a smile. “I’m a real part of the clan. Those stupid minions downstairs thought if you growled at me you didn’t like me, but you didn’t take them.” She went up on her toes and looked over the bed. “Ewwww. That’s pee. I don’t like pee. Xander’s going to like it even less if it stains his floor. Xander is all weird about his wood,” she said, heading into the sleeping quarters without even asking permission. Angel growled a warning despite the fact that something told him that she wasn’t a threat.

“Cordelia and Blair are back,” Harmony went on as she gathered up the towels, holding each by a corner and keeping it as far away from her as she could. Now that she had lifted the towels, Angel’s nose twitched with disgust. “The whole family is together. I really need to wash these. Or have a minion wash these. These are really disgusting. I thought Xander knew better. I’ll get some wood cleaner in here boss.” She backed out of the room, the towels held out away from her body as she left.

Family. Angel knew that word. Memories that belonged to the body flooded through him. A woman staring at him, her mouth forming words. She was begging for the life of her child. “We’ll send your husband your last message.” The blonde woman with the darkness in her center smiled, long fangs appearing. Angel jerked, a gasp forced out of him as his body relived the pleasure of killing the woman. He could feel a chuckle echoing through his head.

“Angel?”

Xander’s eyes were open, his hand resting on Angel’s chest, and Angel’s body reacted without his permission. It was like being a passenger in a car driven by no one. His cock hardened and his fingers itched to touch Xander, to taste Xander, to steal the warmth of that willing body. He wanted to pull away, but each time he did, he could see the pain in Xander’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Xander asked.

“I killed her,” Angel confessed.

“Who?” Instead of recoiling in horror, Xander just looked confused.

“I dunna even know.” Angel frowned and tried to remember a name, a reason, some circumstance that would have justified the taking of a life. Her husband. Her husband had chased him, made him feel impotent. He didn’t like feeling impotent.

“Recently killed, like since I fell asleep?” Xander pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes.

“No,” Angel said. “I remember her.”

Xander sighed and sat so his back rested against the bedhead. Angel pushed himself up to sit next to Xander.

“You probably have a lot of memories of killing people. For both our sakes, please do not describe them, but that’s in the past, Angel.”

“I did it.”

“Yeah,” Xander agreed, but he did so slowly. He said he agreed, but he didn’t. The shifting words, the hidden lies crawled over Angel like worms. He felt raw, like he’d never felt a lie sliding against his skin before, and Angel couldn’t control the shudder. Xander sighed. “Angel, you did it, but you didn’t have a soul going. You definitely didn’t have this soul attached, because this soul pretty much proved that it is good. I mean, you got into heaven. At least, I assume it was heaven. Anyway, I have lot of memories, things like riding the short bus because the school gave me this test that said I was a total idiot. Jesse was standing outside the window waving the latest issue of Spiderman, and I was so not even listening to the teacher who was doing the testing, but that’s a memory, Angel. I’m not an idiot. So, the memory is like this thing that isn’t real.”

“But…” Angel frowned. “It is real.”

“No, it was real. It’s over, Angel. Was, past. Is, present. Past, present.Present, past. Not the same thing. If it was, we wouldn’t have two words for it.”

There was a flaw in the logic, but Angel couldn’t find it.

“We should get up and see what kind of mess we’re facing, huh?” Xander said as he swung his legs out of bed. Angel watched as Xander went to the dresser and pulled clothing out. He remembered waistcoats and long underwear, but Xander pulled out briefs and a t-shirt. Change… always change, and yet the need to cover the fragile body remained.

“Hey, you’re up!” Harmony stood in the doorway. Xander made a sound that Angel couldn’t place, it was a squawking sort of distress that sent Angel leaping out of bed, his vampire features to the front as he growled at Harmony.

“Geez, boss! I’m not looking,” Harmony said, turning her back. Angel checked himself right before reaching out to grab her. He couldn’t hurt someone who wasn’t looking. She was… the word slid away from Angel like a fish darting between his fingers. However, killing her would be bad.

“Hey, no breaking Harmony.” Xander grabbed Angel’s arm, and again, Angel’s body reacted without Angel’s permission. A shiver went through him as the warm hands forced a response out of Angel’s flesh.

“Yeah, no breaking me,” Harmony agreed, “especially when I brought the floor clearer so that Xander doesn’t make that face like he made when Spike broke the banister, only I think peeing on the floor is way worse than breaking some railing. And I don’t know why you’re complaining at all. I mean, you blew up a whole school without feeling guilty, so what Spike does, that doesn’t even compare.”

Harmony’s words brought a flood of memories rushing through Angel. A giant snake eating a man, Xander standing above the crowd with a sword in hand like an avenging Angel. Spike throwing himself forward, his fists flying as he tried to rip apart the darkness that threatened to swallow them all. A woman with yellow hair who had light leaking from her skin, goodness that crept out to skitter across his skin like cobwebs.

“Blowing up the school was a public service.” Xander hopped on one leg to try and get his limbs into the clothing. “Anything you break on the hotel, I have to fix, and I am so not okay with having more work added to my to-do list. Which is why I am thanking you for taking care of the floor, even if I would prefer you knock next time.” Xander went to the closet, and Harmony still had her back turned.

“Blair said that knocking might sound too violent. He said I should just sneak in real quiet. Spike said you’d stake me if I just came in without warning, but Spike was wrong.” Harmony frowned. “He wasn’t happy when I said that.”

Xander snorted. “I bet he wasn’t.”

“There’s lots of people not happy, and face it, when Cordelia’s not happy, he’s not happy. So me pointing out that he was wrong is not to blame. However, I will not be pointing it out again,” she said as she rubbed the side of her head. Harmony turned back around, and this time Xander didn’t make his noise, so Angel supposed it was okay now. “I should clean.” Harmony nodded happily and headed past Angel.

It took Angel a second to realize that Xander was just staring at him. Angel slowly shifted his attention from Harmony to Xander. Xander’s stare turned expectant, and Angel waited, not sure what reaction Xander wanted. Maybe Xander would touch him again. Xander liked to do that, but Angel still couldn’t help feel uncomfortable at having his body react. He wanted to control his own body, and when Xander stood near, he couldn’t. His body wanted Xander, only Angel remembered what it meant to touch Harmony, and if he did that to Xander, he’d hurt him.

“Well?” Xander asked.

Angel blinked at Xander.

“Are you going to get dressed?” Xander looked down at Angel’s body, and Angel realized that he shouldn’t be naked. Naked in front of a woman was bad for some reason he couldn’t quite remember. Angel knew he should get dressed, but he looked around at the rumpled bed and the dressers and the closet with the brass doorknob and at Harmony polishing the dark wood floor, and he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to get the right clothes.

Before Angel could admit ignorance, Xander when to the closet and opened it. “No clothes in heaven, huh?”

“Was he really in heaven?” Harmony asked. They both looked at Angel, and he didn’t know what to say. The memories were starting to fade, like pictures printed on tissue paper. However, he couldn’t say where he’d been. He hadn’t been here.

“Yeah, he was,” Xander said, the sadness leaking from him. Angel walked over and touched Xander’s cheek, trying to understand the source of the pain. “I think I wished him back, although I really tried not to, Angel. Honestly. I wasn’t going to let Angelus keep hurting people, either.”

Angel frowned. He remembered Xander’s voice calling out. Words hadn’t meant anything, but the pain had cut through Angel’s awareness, making his soul bleed… although bleed was not the right word. The right word didn’t fit in Angel’s head.

“I’m so sorry, Angel. You shouldn’t have needed to come back.”

Angel titled his head. “You hurt.”

Xander sucked in a fast breath, and Angel closed his eyes and scented the raw pain. The pain, not the words, had called him back. This world was dark—shadowed and frightening—but he couldn’t ignore the call of Xander’s pain.

“I shouldn’t have pulled you back. You’d earned heaven,” Xander said again, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Angel didn’t understand what Xander meant. The words twisted shape, dangling in the air between them until they didn’t even make sense to Angel.

“You needed me. You hurt,” Angel repeated. That’s all he could say.

Xander looked up at him, his eyes shining. “And I pulled you into the hurt.”

Angel frowned. “Nothing pulled me. I heard you and I came.” Taking the pants Xander had chosen out of Xander’s hands, Angel started pulling them on. He didn’t understand this world, but he knew he didn’t want to have this conversation. Xander ducked his head before he turned back to the closet and started searching through the shirts. He pulled out a deep brown one and passed it over without looking at Angel.

“Which is still feeling pullish,” Xander said softly. Angel let him have the last word only because Angel didn’t know how to argue with someone who rejected logic. That felt familiar, like he expected to lose arguments not out of any logical failing but because Xander simply ignored logic. “So, when did Blair get here?” Xander asked loudly. He was looking at Harmony.

“She called me not long after Spike got here, and I told her all about what happened. So then Cordelia came striding in. Spike almost had a heart attack, and he staked about a dozen minions who looked at her too long. He tried yelling at her about how she could have gotten herself and Blair killed, only there weren’t any minions looking to kill them. Cordelia came in and started ordering them out of her way and calling for Spike, and mostly the minions were just confused.”

“That’s my Cordy. She can confuse a demon into forgetting to eat her,” Xander said with a warmth in his voice that Angel liked. Angel moved closer and rested his hands on Xander’s shoulder. Xander smiled at him, but the expression had a tinge of sadness that made Angel unhappy. He didn’t want to make Xander sad.

“She’s scary,” Harmony agreed, nodding her head so the hair swayed briskly. Angel watched it, fascinated by the movement.

“She is.” Xander took Angel’s hand in his and Angel looked down at where their hands met. “So, let’s go see how much damage Spike did in his anger, but you have to promise me something, Angel.”

“M’fhear?”

Xander gave another smile stained with sadness. “Promise that if I say stop, you’ll avoid breaking anyone. You were a little on the cranky side with Spike last time. Actually, you were cranky with Graham, too. So, no breaking family members.”

“They threatened you,” Angel said with a frown. Spike had threatened to hurt Xander. Angel could feel the growl rise in his throat.

Xander rested a hand against Angel’s chest. “That was a good sort of threatening. He wouldn’t hurt me, but threatening me told me that he was serious, and he was telling me to keep myself safe, so that was sort of anti-hurting of me. Honestly.”

Angel frowned. Again, the logic didn’t make any sense; however, Angel could tell that Xander believed what he said.

“Just, don’t break people, okay?” Xander asked. “Oh shit. Lindsey. I forgot to ask, what happened?” Xander looked at Harmony, and Angel’s memory supplied him with an image of a man hanging from chains, his body bruised and bleeding. Angel had felt powerful and lust had stained his thoughts as he pressed a thumb into the purpling center of a bad bruise. Angel’s cock started to harden without his permission, and Angel pulled away from Xander and pressed himself against the wall. Xander gave him an odd look, but Harmony talked on like this was all normal.

“He was marked up pretty bad, and Wesley was too tired to do much with the spells so he fixed the worst of it, and we put Lindsey in bed with a really good knock-out spell so he couldn’t feel much. Blair wanted to send him back to Wolfram and Hart, but Spike growled over that, and Cordelia said that if he was going to be evil, he had to expect people to get cranky, so that overruled Blair. I didn’t even know that Blair was family, but anyone who can argue with Spike that much and not get eaten is family. He’s been good for Faith, too. He’s spent most of his time with her.” Harmony was rubbing strong smelling liquid into the floor, wiping it with a strong rag, and Angel frowned as he remembered his hands on Graham, the sound of bone snapping and the feel of flesh yielding to his hands.

“I broke Graham,” Angel said softly. Guilt rose up. Graham had wanted to protect Xander. He hadn’t threatened Xander like Spike had.

“Wolfram and Hart’s guys did that,” Xander disagreed.

“Oh no, Angel broke him,” Harmony said with the same cheerful tone. Xander’s head turned until he could pin Harmony with a gaze that Angel recognized as dangerous, but Harmony kept smiling and cleaning the floor.

“Angel what?” Xander asked.

“When he pushed Graham into the door, he broke all kinds of things. Spike was cursing and Faith actually cried. Considering that Faith is the one who let him get captured, she didn’t have a whole lot of room to cry.”

“She….” Xander didn’t say anything else, turning, he bolted out of the room. For a half second, Angel stood, dumbfounded and caught in his own memories. Then he realized that Xander had gone out into a world full of demons, and Angel leaped after him. Even with vampire speed, Xander beat him to Faith’s door, throwing it open without knocked.

“Graham?” Xander asked, breathless. Angel stopped just before the door, not sure he wanted to look inside the room. He could smell pain and blood.

“Hey,” a weak voice answered. Xander went into the room, and that forced Angel to follow even though he desperately didn’t want to. The only alternatives were forcing Xander back to the room or leaving Xander alone, and Angel wouldn’t do either of those. Edging into the room, Angel saw Graham propped up on the bed. Someone had strapped his arm to his chest and two deep punctures over the wound suggested Spike had to drain blood out of the joint. Angel had taught him that. A man they’d hit had bled under his skin, and Angel had shown Spike how to feed on the pooled blood to prolong the victim’s pain, only it hadn’t been Angel. It hadn’t been him, but he could feel the swelling skin under his fingers; the man’s cries had made his cock hard. Angel cringed.

“Geez, Graham. You look really shit-like,” Xander said as he stepped closer to the bed. Blair sat by Graham’s side, and the room smelled of Faith and sweat and tears, but she wasn’t anywhere around.

“This is me after Wesley and Spike did their doctor impressions. It was mildly impressive,” Graham said with a tight smile. His gaze kept skittering over to Angel, but Angel had no words. What he felt didn’t fit inside neat words that he could pass to someone else.

“They are never getting to play doctor with me.” Xander said, and a half second later, he turned red and Graham laughed, at least until he hissed in pain.

“I hear that Spike already played doctor with you,” Blair said with a huge smile, and Angel looked from one to another, not understanding the conversation. It was as if the meaning was a balloon that slipped out of his grasp every time he tried to reach for it. The feeling was familiar, but Angel could feel his frustration rising.

“Which is something we will not be discussing. But I’m hoping that’s not the kind of doctor Spike has been playing. Because honestly, biting that kind of bruise is not looking like the fun kind of doctoring,” Xander said. “That’s more the kind with dentist drills and really big needles.” Xander reached out like he might touch Graham’s bruised and bitten shoulder.

“He drained off blood that was gathering,” Graham said. “I was a little out of it at the time, but short of going to a hospital, I couldn’t have gotten better care.”

“Wesley couldn’t give you any of his quick cure stuff?” Xander settled on the edge of the bed.

“Man, the body is not built to have magic shoved through the cells. It really isn’t built to have magic shoved through it twice in a week,” Blair said with a snort. “Respect the body, and it can do some amazing things on its own.”

“I broke you,” Angel said softly. The room fell suddenly silent, so silent that Angel thought at least one of the humans had stopped breathing.

“You tried to protect Xander,” Graham said. “I might not appreciate the way it turned out, but you acted for the right reasons.”

Angel tilted his head. “You submitted to the demon.”

Blair sucked in a breath, and Xander definitely stopped breathing now.

“I trusted that the demon was strong enough to stop even bigger dangers,” Graham said. It wasn’t total agreement. Angel could feel the cracks in the words, the places where meaning and intent and sound didn’t quite match up.

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m thinking this is a conversation for another time,” Xander suggested carefully. Angel moved to the bed, and Blair moved back with slow, careful steps. “A time far, far away. Years away. Any time other than now would be good, in fact,” Xander said, the words falling out of him in a stream. That was familiar too.

Reaching out, Angel took Graham arm in his hand. The silver cuff caught the light and made it dance in spots against the wall.

“Careful with the human clan members, Angel,” Xander cautioned, but Angel ignored him. He ran his thumb over the edge of the cuff and with a little stinging in the pad of his thumb, the cuff came off.

“Thank the heavens,” Blair said, his word little more than a breath.

“I think I’ll thank Angel,” Graham answered. “Thank you, Angel.”

Angel turned the cuff over in his hand, the silver of it warm under his hands. He’d used this to trap Graham, to hold him. “Were you going to leave?” Angel asked, confused about why he would trap a clan member. Fear rose up, fear of being left, a woman riding a horse away with a laugh. A human with long hair, her hands clasped as she stood behind Angel’s father, turning her back as Angel’s father raised a switch. “I wouldn’t be left,” Angel said softly. He looked around the room.

Blair answered first. “Man, we all have our loose screws. I totally have abandonment issues myself.”

Graham snorted. “For me, it’s all about being not good enough. When Riley wouldn’t believe me about Willow and Jenny getting out of hand, it touched every insecurity I ever had.”

“Yeah, at least you can name an issue. My issues have given birth to litters,” Xander said with a snort. “My parents sold me, my school thought I was short-bus material, my mother’s stupid wish got my lover yanked out of heaven, and my family….” Xander cut himself off, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Angel frowned at the unhappiness in those tones.

“We’re going to be okay,” Graham promised. “As long as we know we have issues, we’ll be fine.”

“Trust me, I’m all knowing-boy when it comes to my issues… which makes it sound like I’m saying I’m all knowing, which is not what I was trying to say.” Xander shrugged. “I also have issues with English.”

“Man, who doesn’t?” Blair asked.

Angel still didn’t understand most of what was being said, but the words didn’t have the sharp edges of earlier. The words floated up like balloons, and some Angel understood and some he didn’t, but none of them cut at him.

“We should go see what the rest of the issuey clan is up to,” Xander said. “Last I looked, we were sort of drowning in minions and assorted other demons.”

“Spike’s temper cut down on that,” Blair said. At the same time, Angel offered his own assessment based on what he could hear from downstairs. “They’re talking about a goddess in Sunnydale ending reality,” he said, repeating what seemed to be the important part of the conversation Spike and Cordelia and Faith were having.

“They… what?” Xander’s voice rose an octave.

“Oh man,” Blair whispered. “It just never stops with you guys, does it?”

Angel looked from one to another, struggling to understand the sudden shift in the tone. “What?” he asked, bewildered at their reactions. No one had any answer at all for that.


	53. 53

“I can't say that I care if they have some hell god breathing down their necks.” Spike leaned back against the front desk, his sprawl taking up most of the counter.

“Well I care. I care a lot. And even if you don't care about the people, it would be nice if you cared about the whole world going to hell.” Xander went to step forward. Yeah, getting into Spike’s face wouldn’t do much good since Spike definitely thought of himself as higher on the totem pole, but it would make Xander feel better. However, Angel caught his arm and held him. Angel might not be understanding most of the conversation, but he definitely had doubts about letting Xander get too near Spike.

Instead of taking offense that Angel was all suspicious, Spike just rolled his eyes. “There are other dimensions, pet. Quite a few of them are nicer than this one.”

“For humans?” Xander demanded. Spike had the decency to look a little chagrined by that question. As far as Xander was concerned, Earth was home. Letting Earth get sucked into hell would, therefore, be bad. It seemed pretty simple to him.

“Angel, tell him we can't let the world get sucked into hell.” Xander turned to Angel about a half second before his brain could remind him that Angel wasn't really firing on all cylinders. Sure enough, Angel just stared at him blankly. Between the blank stares of the random flinches, Xander was starting to get the feeling that Angel was not entirely sane. Not that Angelus had been all sane boy. Angelus definitely had some insane going for him. But this new Angel had his own version of not sane.

Spike snorted. In the past, Angel would've answered that by slamming Spike into the nearest surface. The new Angel just stared at Spike with more blank behind the eyes.

Luckily, Cordelia jumped into the conversation. “Unless you can promise me that this new dimension you want to run to has Nordstrom's, we are not giving up on this dimension. Period.” Cordelia had her cranky face on, and immediately Spike slipped into that head tilting, lip pursing, cajoling expression that he used when he was trying to get Cordelia to change her mind. Strangely, Spike sucked on that front just as much as Xander ever had. Once Cordelia made up her mind, her mind stayed made up.

“I would vote for saving the world,” Blair added from his spot on the steps. Wesley didn't answer, but he nodded his head in agreement. Unfortunately, Xander figured that Blair and Wesley together had about as much influence over Spike as something with no influence at all. They were all just lucky that Cordelia was on their side.

“It's not like the sods sent anyone down here to help us,” Spike said with a glare before he turned back toward Cordelia, gliding closer to her. “They’re not family, luv.”

“Technically, we told them not to come down here,” Xander pointed out. From the glare Spike gave him, Xander was guessing that Spike already knew that. He knew it, and he didn't care. “If we asked them for help, they would've helped.” This time Spike threw in a growl with the glare. Immediately, Angel stepped forward putting himself between Spike and Xander. And the growl that came out of Angel was way louder. Louder and scarier.

“Knock it off,” Cordelia ordered them both stepping in between them and pointing a manicured finger at each vampire. “I don't care whether they helped us or not. I am not letting any hell goddess send my world to hell. Who does she think she is anyway?”

“A goddess,” Xander guessed. “You have to admit goddess is kind of impressive.” Spike’s snort made it very clear that he was not impressed at all.

“If you define goddess as powerful daemon who controls a dimension, I’m pretty sure we just took on a whole lot of hell gods and goddesses,” Blair pointed out.

“What?” Xander looked over in confusion. He was pretty sure he would have remembered taking on gods. Gods were big and scary and all-powerful and scary.

Blair shrugged. “The Powers that Be wanted to get control over Angel, and I’m pretty sure that they run their dimension, so I think you could apply the term ‘god’ to them.”

“But they’re dead,” Xander pointed out. The guy who Wolfram and Hart hired had killed them.

“No, their messengers are dead,” Blair pointed out. “I’m pretty sure they’re still off in their dimension trying to figure out a way to make the world into some calm version of hell. That’s what Mayet said, that demons are driven to recreate their own dimension, and I suspect Mayet is on the side of the Powers on that front. So we defeated her, too.”

“I’ll bloody work for Wolfram and Hart before I’ll let that lot suck the world into that sort of hell,” Spike said with a glare for anyone who might disagree. Xander could understand because the calm and happy hell would be even more hellish for Spike who liked a bit of violence and blood in his day. He considered fighting in Wolfram and Hart’s gladiator ring a good time. He’d once gone out of his way to get a big old rhinoceros looking demon to attack him so he had an excuse to rip its head off in one-on-one combat. Quiet would kill him. But the Powers and Mayet did seem to want the peaceful sort of end of world. And the clan had stopped them from getting Angel back as a champion. Xander let his hand rest on Angel’s arm as he wondered how many godly plans they’d screwed up by refusing to help the Powers reclaim Angel.

“I’d rather keep the world the way it is now,” Blair said.

“Quite so,” Wesley agreed softly. “It seems rather counterproductive to defeat one Armageddon only to stand by and allow another.”

“I’m pretty much thinking that the hell where I burn to death and the hell that bores me to death are both bad in that I’m still dead,” Xander added. Angel’s growl turned sharp and his eyes yellowed. “Only I’m not dead. I’m safe. Totally safe. Safe as a really, really safe thing… like condoms. I’m safe like condoms,” Xander quickly added as he patted Angel’s arm. Spike rolled his eyes. Only three minions had survived the general cleaning Spike and Faith had done, all three protected loudly by Harmony who insisted that she needed them. One of them, a woman in a worn and dusty business suit froze as she tried to walk from the kitchen to the stairs, a tray in her hands. She looked around, clearly confused and scared shitless by Angel’s growl.

“Keep dawdling and you’ll be dust,” Spike warned. The woman’s eyes yellowed and she practically ran for the stairs, the tray for Graham carefully balanced in front of her. Spike sighed. “We aren’t exactly up to fighting strength. We go down there and we’re on unfamiliar territory with weakened forces. Harmony’s right useless in a fight, and she picked the three most hopeless minions to keep.” Spike took a second to glare at Cordelia. Xander would have withered under the look, but Cordelia glared right back.

“If you need help to do your job, you only have to tell me,” Cordelia said with the sort of sweetness that just made the insult sharper. “However, Harmony picked the three minions who are actually useful for running a hotel, which is what I’m doing.” Cordelia crossed her arms, silently daring Spike to argue with her logic. Spike’s nose flared, but he turned back to the rest of them without contradicting her. Considering that Spike was physically stronger, Xander really had no idea how Cordelia managed to win every dominance fight they had.

“Don’t bloody need help,” Spike said with a snarl. “But if we’re plannin’ on going up there to fight, it’d be nice to have some cannon fodder.”

“Then pick up some in the Sunnydale cemeteries,” Cordelia suggested without much sympathy. “Buffy never did pay attention to the details, so I don’t care what she says, there are plenty of vampires still in town.”

“Whoa, so we’re going to go fight another hell goddess, this time face to face?” Blair asked. He looked a little pale at the thought.

“Bloody hell no. You’re going home,” Spike said. Before Xander had gone back to Angelus, Spike had been uncomfortable having Blair around. Blair was clan enough to send Faith to him when she needed protecting; however, he hadn’t been clan enough to ever live with them. He’d been close enough to be in danger from Angelus, but not close enough to be tied in by any relationship other than his mentoring of Faith. Now, Spike was doing his full-on protective routine with Blair the way he did with Xander. Something had shifted, and Xander was guessing sex was involved. With demons, it usually was. Sex and fighting were their answers for everything.

“Hey, I can help. Okay, so my help would be carrying the suitcases,” Blair said with an exaggerated grimace, “but that means one less fighter carrying his own bag.”

“It means one more vulnerability for the bitch to go after,” Spike disagreed. “You’re going back to your bloody warehouse either on a plane or in the steamer trunk I’ve shoved you in, your choice.”

Blair held both hands up in surrender. “Or I could just go home. No problem. The whole fighting gods things is really not my shtick anyway.”

“Graham needs ta stay here,” Spike said thoughtfully. For all his objections it looked like Cordelia was getting her way again, and they were going to go help the Sunnydale crew fight a goddess.

“I’m staying here,” Cordelia said. Spike’s mouth came open, and from the expression, he was about to really blow a gasket. “Oh no,” Cordelia said firmly, “I am not a fighter, and this place needs to be taken in hand. Angelus did an incredible job of collecting treasure and books, but he didn’t run a tight ship with bookkeeping or with making sure guests paid tribute. While you’re off winning the war, I’m going to make sure we have a home for you to come home to.” Cordelia’s words were a little on the harsh side, but she reached up and rested her palm on Spike’s cheek, worry shining through her eyes. Spike practically melted under her touch, leaning in until they were resting their foreheads against one another. It was a gesture that Xander had seen Spike use with Dru, one he’d seen Faith pick up to use with Graham. It was, more than any kiss, a gesture of such utter devotion that it made Xander’s heart ache. If Spike got killed fighting this hell goddess, he was going to take Cordelia heart to the grave with him. Xander wondered if anyone had ever loved Spike that much.

Xander looked up at Angel. He loved Angel that much, he really did, but his love was caught up in all these other emotions. He had pulled Angel out of heaven, torn the soul away from rest and back into a world so dark that Angel thought he’d been trapped in hell. And Angelus was still in there. Xander could see him in the flashes of anger and fear. Angelus lived in Angel’s heart, and Xander had planned to kill Angelus. The love was definitely tangled up with a whole lot of other emotions. Angel frowned and looked at Xander and then searched the room, his eyes going to every corner as he pulled Xander closer and closer until he hugged Xander like an oversized teddy bear and Xander had to struggle to get in a good breath.

“Let the human breathe, Peaches,” Spike said with a sigh as he turned back to the group. After a second, Angel’s arms did loosen although he still held Xander tightly. “Right then, we have to have some fighters here. Faith will likely want to stay with Graham.”

“I could heal Graham,” Wesley said slowly.

“Man, I wouldn’t. The body does not like that much magic running through it,” Blair countered softly. Wesley got an expression on his face like he had developed a sudden case of constipation, but he didn’t disagree.

Cordelia shook her head. “Faith will be enough. No one is dumb enough to try and take this place, not after Angelus wiped out a good number of demons.”

Spike gave Cordelia a weary look. “That’s why they’re going to want to attack, luv. We just made ourselves the castle on the bloody hill, and every knight who wants to prove he’s got the wrinklies to impress his master is going to take a run at us. We’re going to need ta start running this place with more of an eye to security.”

“So we call in some favors,” Xander said. “The Oden Tal owe us… maybe they could stay here for a while or Lorne could help us find a couple of bouncers.”

Spike turned his weary look on Xander now. “Don’t trust people who aren’t clan, pet. That’s a fool’s game.”

“Then we ask Finn to send some soldiers,” Cordelia said, “but you and Angel need to help out in Sunnydale before Buffy does something particularly blonde. And after Finn managed to miss Jenny Giles' trip to nutsoville, I don’t trust him to protect the world any more than I trust Buffy, and I didn’t trust her enough to let her on my cheer squad.”

“In her defense,” Xander started to say. Cordelia glared at him. “I will not be defending her at all,” Xander finished, closing his mouth and leaning back into Angel’s protection. He had no idea that Cordelia was so terrifying when Angel wasn’t around to make her play nice.

“You can have Wesley. His magic should be useful,” Cordelia offered. Wesley turned a lighter shade of white, but he didn’t object as Spike looked him up and down.

“He’ll be more help than Peaches,” Spike admitted.

“Well, thank you for that rousing endorsement.” Wesley was bouncing right back from slavery better than Xander had expected.

“I need Harmony and at least two of the minions, but you can take one to do the cleaning,” Cordelia mused.

“Gunn,” a voice said from the second story. Xander looked up to see Faith standing on the balcony. “We need people to secure the area, we get Gunn and Alona and their crew. They’re good. Graham and I trained them.”

Spike cocked his head to the side. “They hate vampires. I can’t see them agreeing to protect a vampire lair.”

Faith pressed her lips together and started down the stairs. “I can. Gunn hates vampires, but he’s starting to understand that they aren’t all the same. And he’ll defend Graham as long as Graham is hurt.” Faith took a deep breath, and Blair met her at the bottom of the stairs, his hand finding her arm and offering silent support. The smile she gave him didn’t reach her eyes. She looked back at Spike. “I trust him. I trust his crew. And if he can learn a couple of things from Harmony, that’s a bonus.”

That was Spike’s unhappy face.

“He did look minimally competent,” Cordelia commented, which from her was a rousing endorsement.

“He’s not clan, and I’m not shagging the git,” Spike warned darkly. Xander nearly started laughing, but the cold look Spike gave him made him swallow the urge.

Faith, however, had her devilish smile on. “I’ll tell him—no clan, no sex. He won’t even understand what he’s missing out on.” Faith gave Spike a wink before she turned and headed back upstairs.

“Right then, I guess we’re doing this. Mind you, I think it’s downright barmy to run from one battle to another.”

“You love running from battle to battle,” Cordelia pointed out. Spike didn’t answer. He did, however, sigh dramatically.

“I’ll get packed,” Xander offered. Spike swung slowly toward him.

“You’re not going,” Spike said firmly. Xander could feel anger rise up through his guts and he stiffened.

“Oh yes I am,” he said mulishly.

“Oh no, you’re bloody not.”

“Am too.”

“Are not.”

“Am too.”

“Are…” Spike sighed, and that was an aggravated sigh. “Pet, you’re in the same spot at Blair. You don’t have the skills to go up against a god, and you’ll be one more piece the bitch can grab and use against us. You’re staying here.”

“You can’t make me,” Xander insisted. He looked up to Angel for some sort of support on this issue, but as usual, Angel stared blankly. Xander never thought he’d miss Angelus, but at least he could get Angelus to react to him. Angel was starting to annoy him greatly.

“Pet,” Spike said softly, “if we can get Peaches to let go long enough to take him to Sunnydale, you have to know you’d be a distraction. The sod doesn’t think about much but you when you’re around.”

“And how do you know you can even get him to leave me behind. Maybe he’ll insist on taking me along,” Xander said firmly.

“If so, then Angel can stay back with the wounded. I won’t have you in the middle of the fight, not when Peaches would toss us all out with the trash to get you back.” Spike wasn’t budging, and Cordelia was looking the other direction, and Angel didn’t look like he understood much at all.

“You can’t leave me behind,” Xander said again.

“I can,” Spike countered. “Head-boy there and I can help the idiots out of whatever mess they’ve made. I’d prefer it if Angel went along because he’s good muscle, even without his trolley going to the end of the line, but I can’t have you there.”

“Because I’m weak?” Xander demanded. He could feel tears of frustration threatening to fall, not just because of this but because of weeks of feeling worthless and helpless and lots of other ‘lesses” that he just couldn’t face right now. He wanted to go. He wanted to feel like he was one of the fighter again, even if that meant Spike and Angel were doing most of the fighting while Xander cheered them on from the sidelines.

“Angel?” Xander asked, appealing to him again. He didn’t know how much Angel understood, but he had to understand something. Angel tilted his head.

“Peaches, we need to leave Xander here. Leave Xander in safety while we go meet the danger,” Spike said slowly. Spike was actually pretty good at crazy talk, and worse, Xander didn’t have the words to explain to Angel why he needed to go. He didn’t think the idea of a damaged male ego would register with Angel.

“I want to go with you,” Xander tried.

“The boy shouldn’t be in danger,” Spike said. “Keep Xander safe. Leave him here. Make sure he stays here. Here is safe,” Spike insisted in a lilting voice. Xander could feel Angel slowly releasing him, strong hands starting to push Xander away.

“I can help,” Xander insisted. He hated that he didn’t know how to make Angel understand.

“Here is safe,” Spike said. “Cordelia can take care of him. You know most demons would eviscerate themselves before going up against Cordelia.” Spike smiled proudly at that.

“Xander, we have lots of work to do around here. I could use the help,” Cordelia said. Angel’s hands had pushed Xander away from the shelter of Angel’s embrace, and Xander sagged as he realized he’d been outvoted. Great. He’d walked into Angelus’ lair and survived, but he wasn’t allowed to fight at Angel’s side.

“If you two get killed, I’ll make you sorry,” Xander said, unhappiness filling his chest.

Spike stepped closer to Angel, and Angel growled, his warning clear even if Xander had no idea what was making him unhappy this time.

“I should probably just leave the sod here,” Spike said wearily.

“Where’s the hell god?” Angel asked, looking around like he expected this Glorificus to appear in front of him. His eyes turned yellow and his game face came out, fangs elongating more than Xander remembered. The growl turned so viscous that the hairs on Xander’s arms stood at attention.

Spike’s eyebrows went up. “Then again, if we can point Angel in the right direction, this god might discover that she’s bit off more than she can chew.”

“Spike,” Xander said. Spike turned and looked, and Xander tapped his finger. If Angel was going to fight a god, he sure as hell better have the Ring of Amara on. After all, it wasn’t like Angel was going to retreat when he needed to, not in this frame of mind.

Spike grinned. “No worries, luv. I’ll make sure he’s safe as houses. We’ll show this bitch what it means to take on the Aurelius vampires.” And from the grin on Spike’s face, he planned to enjoy teaching that lesson. Xander just couldn’t keep himself from worrying. Angel couldn’t really take care of himself, and as much as Spike loved Angel, Spike didn’t understand souls or guilt or pain or any of the hundred things Angel might be feeling under all the blankness. Xander’s stomach churned at the idea of being left behind, but he doubted his gut feeling would convince Spike of anything.

“Right then, I’ll go get the good weapons. Price, get any books that might tell us about the bitch and her vulnerabilities,” Spike said. And then, with a gleeful expression, he was off.


	54. 54

Spike pulled up in front of the Watcher’s house and sighed. “Right then, you ready for this, Peaches?” Spike glanced over to where Angel sat in the passenger side seat, his eyes scanning the territory without seeming to really register much. It reminded Spike a bit much of Drusilla, truth be told.

“If he’s not, now is hardly the time to discover it,” Wesley complained softly from the backseat.

Spike gritted his teeth and reminded himself that the man was fragile enough without getting put in his place the way Spike wanted. They were all close to going ‘round the bend with all Angelus’ mind games. Everyone except Harmony, and Spike wasn’t sure she had enough of her brain left to go off her rocker.

“Not like Drusilla every needed much sanity to be bloody beautiful and deadly in a fight,” Spike snapped as he got out of the van. “And I’m not your soddin’ chauffeur,” he muttered as he went around to open Angel’s door. Wesley was already climbing down from the side door, but Angel sat in the van and stared out at the Watcher’s house like he’d never seen it before. Then again, maybe he hadn’t. The Watcher and that bitch of his had bought the house after the two clans had effectively split, and Angel hadn’t paid much attention to them after that.

Wesley slammed the side door, and Angel gave a brief snarl that sent Wesley stumbling backward. It’d be amusing if they weren’t all so soddin’ fucked up and about to go into a fight. Spike had half a mind to go shopping for a new dimension and let the slayer go down with the ship, but the rest of the clan wouldn’t accept that sort of solution, not without at least trying to save the bloody world first.

The house door opened and light spilled out onto the sidewalk. “Angel, Spike,” Giles said in a weary voice. Given the tone, that one hadn’t voted to get help, that was for damn sure. Spike gave Rupert his cheekiest smile and considered the man for a moment.

“Wanker,” Spike answered in the same tone of voice. Giles bridled under the taunting, but he didn’t respond.

“Well this is getting off to a good start.” Buffy pushed past Giles and came down the walk. Every time this slayer came near, Spike could feel an itching under his skin, an urge to throw his strength against hers. Hell, with Angel’s trolley off its track, Spike figured he could get away with challenging her, at least until Angel came to his senses and stripped the skin off his back. Spike pushed away the fear that Angel night not ever recover. After a hundred years of Drusilla, he figured he could handle Angel’s nonsense well enough if he had to.

“Slayer,” Spike said, his voice as unemotional as he could manage to make it.

“Wesley,” Buffy said, dismissing Spike with a glance. Spike ground his teeth in frustration and Angel must have picked up the tension because he looked around with yellowed eyes. Buffy stopped dead, her gaze focused on Angel in a way that made Spike’s itch grow stronger. “Okay, you guys were telling the truth about the soul being back, right?” She was halfway down the sidewalk and Finn appeared at the open door, his hand on the tazer at his hip. That bugger was going to get killed with his faith in his fancy toys. They weren’t much good with this hellgod.

“The soul is back. The sanity is rather more in question,” Wesley answered.

“Well that’s not making me feel much better.” Buffy shifted uncomfortably now.

“He’ll be fine in a fight. He just needs a push toward whichever wanker we want him to eat,” Spike said, and at the same time, he gave Angel a nudge toward Buffy. If Angel was going to attack Buffy, it was best to know now. Besides, one bit of bad manners and Angel might get them all uninvited to the party. Spike wouldn’t mind that at all.

Instead Angel took a step forward and then stopped, staring at Buffy and then at Finn. After several rounds, his gaze seemed to settle on Finn. “Why didn’t I trust you?” Angel asked.

“Bloody hell, we don’t have time for this,” Spike said under his breath, but Finn was already stepping forward, looking to Buffy for some sort of explanation, only Buffy was looking just as confused.

“Didn’t Cordelia tell you?” Welsey asked.

“Um, she said that Angel got his soul back and he was having a bad day,” Buffy said. “I took that as having a bad hair day or maybe the sort of day you have when you find stuffy English guys trying to run your life and threaten your watcher. This seems slightly more bad-dayish than I had in mind.”

“Sod was in heaven,” Spike said with a snort. It still felt wrong that a sire as strong as Angel could end up in heaven. Not bloody right at all.

Buffy’s eyes got large. “Heaven? Like heaven, heaven or something weird like Heaven, Indiana?”

This was not the conversation Spike had planned, but Wesley seemed perfectly happy to talk all about clan business. “Yes, that does seem to be the consensus,” Wesley agreed. “Only the vengeance demon Anyanka decided that Angel was Xander’s perfect match, so she pulled his soul back down to this plane of existence.”

“That’s not possible,” Giles blurted. “Demons have no control over higher dimensions.”

Spike gave another snort. “That’s a little more open for debate than you make it sound,” Spike said. “Seems like we got caught between two sets of demons, on that wanted chaotic hell and one that wanted a calm and quiet version. I warned Peaches, and I’m warning you: I’d rather keep the world like it is, but if it comes down to a choice between those two, I’ll throw in with the demons looking to create a little trouble,” Spike warned. “But wherever the soul went buggering off to, it wasn’t anywhere that anyone of those wankers could reach. So it looks like he went and got himself a ticket to heaven. Now, maybe we can go inside instead of standing out here like a bunch of witless fledges waiting for something ta come along and attack.”

Taking Angel by the arm, Spike started pulling Angel toward the Watcher’s house. The slayer could move or she could stand there and let Spike shove her out of the way. Either worked.

“Heaven?” Finn sounded either shocked or witless. Maybe both. He might be the best of the soldiers, but that didn’t mean a whole lot. Spike still hadn’t forgiven the arse-wipe for taking off with Xander to the damn cliffs to hunt demons. Spike reached Buffy, and she yielded, stepping off the walk and into the grass. Spike’s demon preened under the implied respect.

“As unbelievable as it sounds, it is the most likely explanation, and now Angel appears to believe he’s in some level of hell,” Wesley explained.

“He thinks this is hell?” Riley stepped back into the house. “Angel, Spike, please come in,” he said, issuing the formal invitation.

“This is hell,” Angel said softly as he looked around in confusion. He focused on Finn again. “I didn’t trust you.”

“I think you still don’t,” Finn answered. “I think you doubt my commitment and my ability to fight demons.” Finn sounded remarkably calm about that. Most humans got their tails in a twist over status about as quick as demons. Instead of taking offense, Finn looked past them to the van. “Isn’t Graham coming?”

“He took a few knocks. He’s resting up,” Spike said without explanation.

“Spike!!” A new voice squealed, and Spike turned to see Dawn flying down the stairs.

“Bit!” He called out, opening his arms. She was the only one of the Sunnydale crew he cared two bits about. If worse came to worse, he was bloody taking her with them and finding a new dimension. She was almost to the bottom of the stairs when Spike felt strong hands grab at him, yanking him back away from Dawn. Then Angel put himself in her path, gameface out and a growl making it clear that he would kill.

“Dawn!” Buffy cried out, throwing herself forward, and Spike leapt between Angel and Buffy to deflect any blows.

“Buffy! No!” Dawn screamed the words, and then there was confusion. Spike pulled at Angel to get him into a corner, but Angel seemed equally determined to pin Spike into a corner so their struggles became a bizarre, grappling dance. Buffy stood in front of Dawn, stake drawn, and Finn had out his tazer while Giles and Wesley just looked dazed.

“Stop it! Just stop it!” Dawn begged, tears running down her face. It was bloody wrong, that’s what it was. Spike appreciated Dawn because she had balls twice as big as her sister, and now she was crying.

Realizing that he couldn’t physically win a battle with Angel, not without hurting him, anyway, Spike yielded and let Angel shove him back toward a corner. A lamp tumbled off a table, and glass crashed somewhere, but all Spike could see was the backside of Angel, as if he were some helpless chit that needed guarding. Spike couldn’t control the growl that escaped. He might appreciate his sire’s attention more than he’d ever admit, but this wasn’t the sort of attention he wanted.

“Someone’d better start explaining,” Buffy warned.

“Who are ye?” Angel demanded. Great. Now the moron decided the slayer was a danger. Spike punched Angel’s kidney, hoping to force his way clear, but Angel grunted without moving.

“Me? I’m the slayer. I’m starting to think you’re the vampire in need of a little therapy, or a lot. A lot of therapy might be good, only we kinda don’t have time for this.”

“Not you. The girl. Who is she?” Angel demanded. “She smells of power, of hell.”

“She—what?”

“Hey! I showered this morning. I do not smell like hell,” Dawn snapped, and Spike realized that things were a little stranger than he’d anticipated.

“That’s the slayer’s little sister. You know her. She used to follow Xander over to your apartment,” Spike explained.

“She what!?” Buffy’s voice rose an octave.

“I was perfectly safe!” Dawn was in defensive mode, and unless Spike guessed wrong, the two Summers sister were about to engage in full-scale warfare.

“You said you didn’t go over there!”

“You said that vampires weren’t real and I was imagining things!” Dawn countered.

“People!” Giles practically yelled, and Spike took the opportunity to shove his way past Angel.

“Bloody hell, Peaches, I know you got a few marbles knocked loose, but don’t you recognize Dawn?” Spike asked. Dawn stood on the first step, her hands still on Buffy’s shoulders like she’d been trying to push past, and now her eyes got bigger.

“He doesn’t know me?” she asked softly, clearly hurt. She needed to learn to not show that soft underbelly, she was too much like Xander in that respect.

“He’s had a hard time, Bit. The Watcher’s bitch helped yank his soul out, and now a demon pulled his soul out of heaven and shoved it back in. He’s just a little worn about the edges, luv. I’m sure he’ll remember you soon enough.”

Angel kept growling through Spike’s entire apology, which didn’t help much.

“And until then? You have brought an insane vampire into my house,” Giles snapped.

“And your bloody wife ripped his soul out in the first place,” Spike snarled right back.

“Okay, as far as help goes, this is less than helplike,” Buffy said, her voice strained. “We have a god out there trying to end the world, fancy knights who think that the world would be safe if they just killed us all, which is not really making sense to me, and now Angel is all mentally not-healthy. Maybe you could just loan us the big magic books and let us take this from here.”

“Buffy,” Finn said, his voice just sharp enough to tell Spike he didn’t like that plan. He’d been part of the group that wanted help, and if soldier-boy wanted help, something had his knickers in a right twist. Spike wondered just how much damage this hell-bitch had done.

“No, this,” Buffy wiggled her finger between Spike and Angel, “is not helping. You said we needed to ask for help, and I’m good with that, but I want help-help, not unhelpful help.”

“Spike and Angel and Xander always helped,” Dawn said, that mulish streak of hers showing up right on schedule.

“Where’s Xander?” Angel asked, and the growl dropped several notes, turning into a low rumble that made everyone take a step back.

“We left him safe in LA,” Spike hurried to say.

“He’s should be with me.” Angel stared at Spike with yellow eyes, and for a moment, Spike swore he slipped back in time a hundred years to stare into the eyes of a pure demon. This was Angelus. Then the moment passed, and the soul seemed to engage again, although this was the sort of fury that Spike didn’t normally associate with Angel. “Why isn’t Xander here?” Ignoring the rest of the room, Angel reached for Spike, grabbing him by his coat’s lapels before slamming him back into a wall. “Get Xander!” he ordered, which was going to be hard if Angel planned to keep slamming him into walls. Spike could hear the drywall crack, but unfortunately, Angel had chosen a bit of wall with a stud behind it, so Spike’s head was taking a pretty good beating, too.

“I can call him,” Wesley blurted out, and Spike could hear the electronic blips of a cell phone.

“Oh good lord. Someone needs to stop him,” Giles answered.

Before Spike could figure out what Giles meant, the man strode forward and shoved a cross at Angel’s face. Most days, Spike thought the Watcher was a bit dim. Days like this, Spike was pretty sure the man was downright pig-ignorant. If he burnt Angel with that thing, Angel was going to take it and shove it up the git’s arse.

“Stop that right now.” Giles pressed the cross toward Angel, but instead of flinching away, Angel reached out and snatched the cross out of Giles’ hand, but at least that meant he had to stop slamming Spike’s head into the wall. With a gasp, Giles fell back, and Buffy was suddenly there, much too close for comfort considering that Angel wasn’t firing on all cylinders.

“Enough,” she said, and Spike struggled to pry the fingers of Angel’s left hand off his coat.

“This is wrong,” Angel said darkly.

Buffy nodded. “In oh so many ways, yep. Spike, maybe you can take your crazy sire somewhere else.”

“You don’t exist.” Angel was looking at Dawn again, and Spike could see the way Dawn’s eyes shone with tears as Angel rejected her. Spike knew how it felt to get shoved aside like yesterday’s garbage.

“Look here, mate, I don’t care how scrambled your brains are right now, that’s the slayer’s sis. Dawn. You know her,” Spike said as he finally pulled himself free and aimed a punch at Angel’s shoulder for good measure.

“She smells like Buffy, but she isn’t. She isn’t real. This is wrong.”

“And again, I’m agreeing with the wrong part,” Buffy said. “And maybe you should put the nice cross down before you burn all the flesh off your hand. Seriously, Spike, why did you think he could fight like this?”

“Never slowed Drusilla down.”

“Drusilla cried. She wanted to be the mother, but I ripped off Darla’s head.” Angel blurted that out as if it made any sense. Oh, it was good to know the rumors about Darla’s reappearance and redeath were true, but it was a little off track, especially since the slayer was looking more worried than ever.

“What is going on?” Finn asked. “Angel, what are you talking about?”

Angel looked around for a second before staring at Finn. For one second, Spike thought he’d go for Finn’s throat and they’d have a free-for-all in the middle of the watcher’s parlor.

“Reality changed,” Angel said slowly.

“The only reality that changed is the bit between your two ears,” Buffy said softly, but not softly enough that Spike couldn’t hear it clear enough.

Angel turned and looked at Dawn. “You aren’t real,” he repeated.

“Seriously, stop saying that!” Buffy complained.

“Bit,” Spike said after flicking an aggravated look toward Angel, “he’s gone a little ‘round the twist, what with getting dragged out of heaven. Maybe you should just head on upstairs and give him some time to calm down.”

Dawn looked from him to Angel and back. “I am real. I was his friend back when Xander was only going over because he liked torturing Angel with horrible movies.” She had her jaw set in that way that said she’d stay and fight to make a point if she had to. She’d always been the brassy one, more like Joyce than Buffy, and Spike did respect that woman. If he’d met her twenty years ago, he would’ve been happy to seduce her, even.

“You’re right about that,” Spike agreed with her. “Xander said you were the only one to stand with him when the others decided to throw a wobbly. Angel always loved you, Bit. I do, too. He just needs time to recover.” The trick to handling a strong woman was to let them have their bloody way and make the rest of the world bent to them. It wasn’t much different with Cordelia. Spike let her do what she wanted, and then he just had to torture and kill enough demons to make sure they understood his queen’s expectations for how they needed to behave. It was easier than changing Cordelia. That’s why Buffy never could seem to get along with her sister; she never understood that Dawn was another one who’d bend the world to her will before bending herself. Hell, even Xander was fairly good at that. He’d gotten Angelus to bend when Spike would have said that old bastard didn’t know how to change.

Of course, Spike didn’t have that power. Even now, Angel growled at Dawn as though considering an attack. If Angel wanted to eat Finn, Spike wouldn’t bat an eye, but he sure didn’t want Dawn getting hurt. After he’d killed Kendra, Dawn had forgiven him first, and he hadn’t realized how much he wanted the forgiveness of the human members of his clan until she’d done that. It’d killed him watching Xander struggle, knowing that Xander might not be able to forgive him fully the way Dawn had.

“Angel, there’s a problem,” Wesley said cautiously. Angel’s yellow eyes found Wesley and pinned him with a stare. “Xander is apparently ill.”

Angel’s head tilted to the side, and Spike wished he knew whether that meant he was about to attack or whether he was just confused as hell. Maybe his time in heaven meant he couldn’t remember just how often humans went down to some snotty, bodily-fluid spewing illness.

“Give me the phone,” Spike said, holding out his hand. They couldn’t trust Angel with something as breakable as a cellphone under the best of circumstances, and they were far from at their best. Luckily, Wesley surrendered the phone without a word of protest.

Instead, Wesley turned to Finn. “I have brought a rather sizeable collection out of Angelus’ personal library. I believe I have a number of demonic texts that might touch on Glorificus’ powers, but I shall need help carrying them in. Perhaps then we could begin cross-referencing the power and characteristics you’ve observed with the texts.”

“Yea, research,” Buffy said wearily.

Ignoring all of them, Spike focused on the phone. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Spike, Xander is starting to really get on my last nerve,” Cordelia announced, but her tone of voice was more worried than angry, which made the hair on the back of Spike’s neck stand up. She wasn’t one to get her knickers in a twist easily.

“What is it?”

“Well, he started saying he had a headache, and from there it went to throwing up and falling down, and I would say he has a really disgusting version of the flu, only now he’s taken up growling. Not complaining in a low rumbling voice that sounds like a growl, but actual growling. Spike, I think we need you down here.”

“She has Xander,” Angel said, yellow gaze swinging around to cut at Spike. Tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder, Spike reached out to take the cross away from Angel. He really would burn the flesh off down to the bone at this rate, and they couldn’t afford any more wounded.

“Seems like if we come back down, we have the same problem with a hell-god running loose,” Spike pointed out. The cross burned his fingers and wisps of smoke rose as Spike tugged at it until Angel finally let loose of it. With a hiss of pain, Spike tossed it back toward Rupert. His skin was charred black in spots with weeping blisters already forming, but when Spike turned Angel’s hand over to inspect the damage, Angel’s hand didn’t have a mark on it.

“And if you don’t come back, I have a problem with Xander,” Cordelia said in a tone that made it clear she wouldn’t accept that answer.

Still running a thumb over the unmarred skin of Angel’s palm, Spike made a little affirmative noise as he considered their options. He didn’t mention that he had an equal problem with Angel.

“If I dunna get my Xander….” Angel let his words trail off, but the tone was all Angelus.

“Luv, I think we may need Xander up here.” Spike thought about the personnel at the hotel. Graham couldn’t move, Cordelia made it clear that she wanted to stay clear of the fighting, and Spike would turn to dust before dishonoring her preference, and the hotel needed at least one good fighter. Faith was it. That left one option. The worst option, but he didn’t see any other choice. “You need to have Harmony bring Xander up. She’ll be staying, and we’re going to need sun-proof draping, bedding, linens, a set up for a lair. It seems like Angel’s taken a disliking to Dawn, so staying with Joyce is going to be right out.”

“You were going to stay with my mother?” Buffy’s voice rose an entire octave. “My mother? My mother?” As she prattled on, changing the emphasized word with each repetition, Spike gave her an evil grin.

“Had an invite and everything, luv.”

“She’s getting back at me for not visiting enough,” Buffy complained as she leaned into Finn. “I’ve been better since she got out of the hospital. I totally have. Why does she have to invite vampires to stay with her?” Finn wrapped his arms around her without commenting. Spike frowned at the mention of a hospital. Joyce hadn’t said anything about going to hospital, but then she wasn’t the sort who would. That was one more thread to follow up on.

“Buffy’s complaining, isn’t she?” Cordelia asked with a sigh. “Fine, I’m sending Harmony up with the supplies, but you are not to stake her or let Buffy stake her or leave her somewhere that she’s likely to get staked.”

“She’ll be safe as houses,” Spike promised. He’d love to stake Harmony, but knowing how Cordelia felt, he wouldn’t. Besides, she’d earned some leeway given how she’d taken care of clan when Angelus had been stomping around in oversized boots, even if she did remind Spike of his own turning in very unpleasant ways. If it weren’t for Drusilla’s obsession with him and Angelus’ attempts to teach him to be a proper vampire, he would have been too much like Harmony for comfort. He would have spent his bloody afterlife in a suckhouse reading soddin’ poetry to humans. What a pathetic picture that would have been.

“Where do you want her to meet you?” Cordelia was all business now.

“Backup plan,” Spike said, not willing to mention the Crawford Street mansion around people who weren’t clan. Spike figured Rupert would love to burn the place down around their ears, and he wouldn’t give odds on Finn or the slayer giving up the chance.

“She’ll be there in a couple of hours. Just….” Cordelia stopped.

“I’ll come home safe, luv,” Spike promised, and he’d do his best to do exactly that. In his whole life he’d never had a woman trust him or love him as much as Cordelia, and he wouldn’t throw that away. There’d be time enough for him to take needless risks after he lost her to old age; he wouldn’t lose one day with her through some recklessness of his own.

“You’d better or you have no idea how I’ll make you pay,” Cordelia threatened him, and then she hung up. Spike couldn’t help but smile as he hit the disconnect button and handed the phone back to Wesley.

“Wesley, get the books in and get set up here. Watcher, even one of those books turns up missing, and I’ll take it out of your hide,” Spike threatened. The watcher opened his mouth, probably to defend his honesty or some rot like that, but Spike ignored him. “Looks like Xander and Harmony will be joining us up here.”

“Xander?” Wesley asked, but he was almost drowned out by Buffy’s loud gasp.

“Harmony? Harmony Kendell? Dead Harmony Kendell?”

“Dead doesn’t slow some of us down much,” Spike pointed out. Then, not waiting for Angel to make another scene, Spike caught him by the arm and starting pulling him out into the night. Wesley and the others could unload the magic books; Angel needed a little space.

“I want Xander here,” Angel complained, even as he let Spike manhandle him out the door.

“He’s coming, luv,” Spike promised. Once they were in the Crawford Place, Spike needed to have Wesley do a little extra research because there were a few things that just weren’t adding up, at least they didn’t add up to anything that made sense. He shouldn’t be surprised, though. Since hitting Sunnydale four years ago, precious little made sense. Bloody hellmouths. They might have some tasty walking happy meals and they made power sing across your nerves, but other than that, they were a fucking menace.


	55. 55

Xander pulled against his seatbelt, annoyed at how it rubbed against his neck. He didn’t like it. For nearly an hour he’d been putting up with the rubbing against the soft of his neck, and he couldn’t take any more. With a snarl, he pulled again, and something cracked right before the belt went loose.

“Well that’s not good. If you go and get yourself whiplash or something, it’s not my fault,” Harmony groused. Xander felt a hot flash of anger sweep through him. He was angry with Harmony, with the car, with the seatbelt, with the thousand damn cars around them slowing them down as they tried to reach Sunnydale.

“If you get in an accident, it is.” Xander snapped out each word, his temper fraying.

“Nah-uh,” she disagreed.

“Ye-es,” he shot back.

“No, because you broke the seat belt.”

“Well you got in the accident.”

“No I didn’t,” Harmony said with a frown as she glanced over at him. Oh yeah, she hadn’t. Xander clenched his teeth and tried to ride through another wave of frustration. He was hot, fever-hot. He’d been better controlling this new anger when they were at the hotel. Of course, Faith sitting on him had encouraged him to control it more. Xander could snap and snarl at Harmony, and he knew it.

She gave a big sigh. “I liked you better when you were less with the grrrrrr,” she complained softly. Xander gritted his teeth harder. “You were sort of pseudo-cool in a nerdy-sweet kind of way, but now you’re acting like….” Her voice drifted off as she made a squinchy face. Xander thought fondly of the way Spike would backhand her, and for a second, he considered trying it for himself, but she was driving. Even with his last nerve threatening to break, he knew that backhanding the driver would probably be a bad idea when you were on the mortal side.

“Like what?” Xander demanded instead, his voice dark with warning.

“Like a vamp instead of a vamp groupie,” Harmony said with a big huff. “And I’m not talking about this because Spike’s going to be really cranky if you’re all in a bad mood when we get to Sunnydale.”

Xander sighed since he couldn’t actually argue with that. Angel’d be in a worse mood if he could grip with reality well enough to know what was going on. Xander’s morality was like Angel’s Achilles heel. Or maybe not a heel, but an elbow. Poke it and Angel might not die, but he’d be really cranky for a really long time. One little thought that he might be compromising Xander’s morality, and Angel turned himself inside out. It was annoying. Annoying and pointless. Xander’s morality was his own business. If he was going to fuck it up or throw morality out the window altogether in favor of staking Harmony because her voice annoyed him, that was his choice.

“Hey, do you think Buffy will remember me?” Harmony asked after a long and awkward silence.

Xander thought about their graduation day, and he could feel his emotions shifting. When they’d learned that a random vampire had killed Harmony, they’d all sat and stared at each other with this mute horror. Even if they never said the names of the people who’d died in that battle, Xander suspected that the others were like him—the names of the dead were burned into their memories. His fury faded in the face of that well-polished pain. Before Harmony had shown up at the hotel, Xander had cherished her memory next to the one of Jesse and Ampada and all the other innocents who’d died in Sunnydale. Okay, so Ampada hadn’t been innocent the second time around, but when she was sacrificed in some ceremony before becoming a soul-sucking demon, she’d been innocent.

He sighed. The road clipped by them, a few landmarks starting to look familiar. “She’ll remember,” Xander said quietly after a long silence.

“Good. Because I don’t know if you realize this, but I'm not actually the kind of vampire who wants to take on the slayer."

“I kinda get that,” Xander agreed. Now that his anger had left, Xander couldn’t decide why he’d wanted to hit Harmony. It would definitely be less than gentlemanly and considering that she was several times stronger them him, probably not all that bright.

“Good,” Harmony said firmly. “Because if she plans to chase me with a stake, I plan to run and leave you to deal with her. She's your friend.”

“That she is,” Xander agreed. No matter how much time or distance separated them, he and Buffy would always be friends.

“And if you’re friends, that means Spike can't get upset with me for leaving you with her because it’s not the same as abandoning you, it’s leaving you with a friend. See? It all works out perfect.” She smiled and nodded to herself. Clearly Spike had been issuing some threats.

“Since you’re going to stay at the mansion, I don't think you're going to be running into Buffy much anyway.”

Harmony did a little head nod-jerk-flip thing. “I can't stay at the mansion all the time,” she said with clear exasperation. “Do you know how many of the old cheerleading crew have ended up dead? Well, either dead or working at Walmart. But anyway,” she hurried to say, “my point is, I need to touch base with the girls before the girls have all disappeared. If I wait, they’re going to be dead or fat or wearing those funny little hats and working some place that smells bad. This might be my last chance to get together for a girls night.” Harmony looked honestly upset at the idea of missing a reunion. They were going into a battle for the fate of the universe, and she wanted to pick out matching underwear with giggling girls. Xander’s cock took a moment to remind him that bisexual and gay were not the same thing.

For hours, Xander had been dealing with these alien, powerful instincts. He'd looked at Harmony and he'd wanted to rip all her hair out, followed possibly by ripping out her heart. To be honest, he wanted the same thing with Cordelia, but no matter how many alien instincts were driving him, he was not going up against Cordelia. There was stupid, and then there was too stupid to live. Xander might be one, but he was not the other. However, right now, Xander could only feel this faint, almost amused sense of horror at the thought of a vampire Harmony being turned loose on the shopping malls of Sunnydale. He would worry about the reactions of the other cheerleaders when she showed up on their doorstep, only the cheerleaders had been more susceptible than most to Sunnydale blindness. The cheer squad had a mortality rate that rivaled certain special ops units in the military, and they never seemed to notice.

“I think you'd better clear that with Spike first,” Xander warned. If Harmony wanted a girls’ night out, Xander wasn’t stopping her.

Harmony rolled her eyes. “Spike’s going to be all busy with that hell goddess person.”

“Not too busy that he can't take time to hit you really, really hard,” Xander pointed out.

Harmony made a little huffing noise and rolled her eyes at him. “Hey!” She smiled brightly. “You're back to being kind of nerdy cool again.”

“Um, thank you?” Xander said. He wasn’t entirely sure that was a compliment, no matter how much Harmony made it sound like one.

“No, really. You aren't all being weird. Well, you are. I mean, really, you're kind of strange. But you’re not doing the demony strange thing now,” she concluded grandly.

Xander scratched his stomach and thought about it. “I think I just stopped feeling like growling.”

“Good. That might be a good look for Spike, but it totally clashes with the look you have going. You’re more of an everyman, common hunk. Like that guy on the commercial that delivers water and all the secretaries would go to the window to watch him deliver water because he was kind of a hottie, but then you knew that he was sort of a loser because he was delivering water, but it kind of didn't matter that he was a loser, because he was really cute. And that's kind of the vibe you have going.”

For a long time, Xander could only stare and try and sort out all the insults from all the compliments. Again, her tone of voice had been totally on the complimentary side, but Xander wasn’t sure the words were. In fact, he was almost positive she’d just shredded his ego, only he couldn’t quite catch the insult. “And again with the questionable thank you,” he said. “I'm starting to think that maybe you shouldn't compliment me.”

“We're friends. I'll always be here to compliment you,” Harmony assured him cheerfully. Then she turned her attention back to the road. They were getting close to Sunnydale, and that growling sense of fury that Xander had been carrying in the pit of his stomach gave way to a more general sense of unease. Spike always talked about the vibe on the hellmouth feeling powerful, but now that Xander had lived off the hellmouth, he realized it actually felt a little creepy. It was like someone was playing horror movie music just soft enough that you couldn't quite hear it. It was like fingernails down a chalk board shivers even though you couldn’t actually hear the screech.

“Home again,” Xander said softly. If the world was about to end, he wanted to be at Angel’s side, even if Angel was visiting the land of la-la right now. He just wished he understood why Spike had changed his mind. Fear sent her tendrils slipping through him.

“Old home, which is not quite as good as our new home, but it’s still very homey,” Harmony agreed. “I know the shopping is better in LA, but I’m so looking forward to hanging out at the old places.”

Xander looked over and frowned as Harmony took the exit for downtown Sunnydale. The sun would come up in a few hours, and all the bad little demons must have gone home because once they’d left the traffic of the highway behind, the town felt deserted, cold, seriously creepy.

“Aren't you even a little bit worried?” Xander asked.

“No.” The answer came so quickly and easily that it caught Xander off-guard.

“Not even a little? I mean not even the smallest tiniest crack of complete and utter despair that our world is about to end?” Xander held up to fingers to demonstrate the world’s smallest crack.

“Oh please. Angel and Spike can kill anything that threatens to end the world,” Harmony pointed out. “They're really scary.” She made a face emphasize just how scary they were, and Xander had to agree. Spike and Angel were kind of scary when they were fighting on the same side. He actually wasn't sure how the universe had avoided apocalypse back during the Scourge of Europe days. From the stories, he suspected that none of them were sane enough or organized enough to actually keep their shit together. Darla had been the only planner in the group, and her plans tended to include pissing people off and abandoning her allies. It didn’t say much about her plans. However, this Glorificus seemed to have the godly powers of good planning because she was out-maneuvering Riley. Xander suspected that wasn’t easy.

“But this is a goddess. As in, well, a goddess,” Xander pointed out.

“Oh please.” Harmony gave a huff. “I happen to be a goddess of fashion. In high school that meant lots and lots of people worshiped me. And in high school, that made me better than all of you. However it did not give me more powers. So if she wants to call herself a goddess and have lots of worshippers, that's fine. She still doesn't get it be any scarier than she would be if she called herself a pathetic god-envying demon with no followers at all.”

Xander thought about that. “Do you really think it's that simple? Do you really think that she's just a goddess because people worship her?” It seemed like there would have to be some powers attached for the Council of Watchers to go calling Glory a goddess, but he didn't actually know. The dictionary definition of god was not really helpful for these sorts of situations, and there were lots and lots of demons who called themselves godlike. Lots even had godlike powers. The guy who reanimated the dead so he could play with them and make their bodies do creepy, creepy things—that was slightly goddish. He was also so very dead. Actually, lots of god-like demons were dead after Angelus’ reign. If Angel remembered being Angelus and got over his crazy, he had all sorts of mad demon-killing skills he’d sharpened up. “I hope she’s just a demon with a good P.R. campaign,” Xander said with a sigh.

“Speaking as a former goddess myself, absolutely. And let me tell you, having goddess powers doesn’t mean much once you don't have people following you. I mean I made one little suggestion to Spike about how all of his dark clothes overpowered his natural coloring, and he got all upset. I mean I just suggested that he give up his black or his red and get some variety like maybe a nice periwinkle. Periwinkle would be a great color with his eyes and his blond hair. But anyway. He totally overreacted. So despite all of my goddessy powers of fashion, and I am a fashion goddess,” she added firmly, “it didn't do me any good. My guess is that this Glory is the same way. She has some power, but it's not good to be enough to save her from getting a serious slap down.”

Xander thought about that. Between the mixed metaphors and weirdly personal stories, she had a point. “Harmony?”

“Yeah?”

“Have I said lately how happy I am that you’re part of the family?” Xander asked.

Harmony looked over at him, her eyes wide. “Really?” she asked softly.

“Really really,” Xander agreed. Harmony's face broke into a wide grin.

“Well of course you are. I'm Harmony,” she said in her best no-duh voice.

“That you are,” Xander agreed. She was definitely Harmony, and there wasn’t another vamp in the world that could match her. Xander just hoped that either she stayed at the mansion or that Sunnydale was ready to meet her. Vamp her. Riley might never recover.


	56. 56

Xander got out of the passenger side and headed toward the old mansion. “This place is definitely not Cordelia approved,” he pointed out.

Harmony made a face. “I don't care how much I clean, this is never going to look good. We should go back to the Hyperion.”

“Except that we have a small problem with world ending.”

“That's Buffy's job.”

“And if Buffy can't do it?”

Harmony’s face sort of scrunched up at that.

“Then we find a new dimension,” Spike said as he stepped out from behind some trees, a cigarette in hand. He took a deep drag on it so that the red and glowed in the night. “The white hats have to lose sooner or later, and if now is the time, I can't say I much care.” Spike studied Xander up and down. “I hear you're having some problems.”

Xander blushed. “Whatever Cordelia told you….” He gave a heavy sigh. “Okay, they're probably true. In my defense, things were a little with the screwy after you guys left. And I want to point out that I might've growled of Faith a little, but I never growled at Cordelia. So, if you're planning on getting all possessive or defensive about Cordelia, please just….” Xander stopped again. If Spike was going to get all cranky, there really wasn’t a whole lot Xander could do. “Just not around Angel, okay?”

Dropping his cigarette to the ground, Spike crushed it under his heel. “If Cordelia was brassed off about your attitude, she would've eviscerated you herself, pet. I’m just wondering why you would have ballsed-up your friendship with Faith.”

“What? Oh no. No, there was no ballsing up, and I’m assuming you mean that in the messing up way.”

Spike almost smiled. “You seem normal enough now.”

“He got over the growling,” Harmony agreed. “It was totally weird there for a while. I mean he was growling and talking all cranky and it was totally not like him.”

Spike completely ignored her as he headed for the door. Yep, things were back to normal. “I was having a moment,” Xander defended himself. “I mean, if you guys go leaving me behind, I say I'm entitled to throw it slight hissy fit.” Xander cringed. Yeah, he done more than throw a hissy fit, and he knew it, but when all else failed, repress and ignore. Besides, his need for therapy was less important than making sure that the world didn't get destroyed. He was voting no on world destroying. “So, did Buffy and Riley have any big insight?”

“I doubt those two could recognize an apocalypse if it sat on them,” Spike said with disgust. “As far as I can tell, they aren't doing much to track down the magic this bint is using.”

“And that’s bad?” Xander guessed.

Spike headed into the dusty and dim hall of the mansion without answering. Yeah, it was bad.

“Hey, Wesley!” Harmony sang out, waving enthusiastically as she spotted Wesley sitting at a desk behind an entire mountain range of books. Xander was starting to get a few suspicions about what those two had been up to while everyone else was out running away from Angelus.

“Harmony… and Xander.” Wesley took off his glasses, and for a second he looked so much like Giles, and the piles of books looked so much like the library, the Xander could almost believe that the last three years hadn't even happened. Here they were, one more apocalypse threatening to wipe out the universe. You’d think demons would have something better to do with their spare time. “Xander, how are you feeling?” Wesley stood up, his gaze flicking over toward Spike before he focused on Xander again.

“Um… fine.”

“No more bouts of demonic characteristics?”

“Demonic what? Oh no. There is nothing demonic here. I might, however, be having a small case of nervous breakdown. That's an option. So, where's Angel?”

“Upstairs,” Spike said with a jerk of his head toward the stairs, but when Xander looked up, Angel was already standing there. He looked… saner. Not sane, but any move toward sanity was a good one.

“Hey,” he said softly. Angel tilted his head to the side and studied Xander. Moving slowly forward, he almost glided down the last few stairs and across the room, every inch the elegant predator. And yet, Xander wasn't the prey. Instead, Angel had the sort of grace that Xander normally associated with Angelus being in a really lusty mood. His cock started to take interest, and Xander swallowed as Angel moved in on him. Just when Xander expected Angel to grab him and pin him to the floor, one of Angelus’ favorite moves, Angel’s hand came up and gently traced the line of Xander’s jaw. Inching closer until their bodies pressed together, Angel rested his palm against Xander’s cheek and leaned in until their foreheads touched.

“M'fhear,” Angel whispered.

Closing his eyes, Xander wrapped his arms around Angel and stood feeling his strength. This was the Angel Xander loved, soul and demon. Xander might be going to hell for selfishly wanting Angel back, but that wouldn’t stop him from being grateful that it was his Angel’s arms around him. Angel hugged Xander so tightly that breathing was a little bit of a chore, but that was okay, too.

“Right then, I guess that's you sorted out.”

“Who? Me?” Xander didn't bother to open his eyes.

“No, Peaches was having a moment a while back. It seems he thinks he's the king and he can order the rest of us serfs around.”

Xander cringed. Technically Angel was totally in control. If he said something, everyone else did tend to go along. But that worked mostly because Angel didn't actually say much. Spike and Cordelia weren't the kind to appreciate the micromanaging sort of clan leader Angelus had turned into. “Bad?” Xander asked.

“You could say.” Spike sounded guarded, which was the best indicator that it was really, really bad.

“He has been rather aggressive,” Wesley agreed. “I daresay his behavior most recently would have reinforced most of Mr. Giles’ less fortunate impressions of the man.”

“So he’s been acting homicidally jerky?” Xander sighed and leaned into Angel. Whatever had Angel acting all cranky before, he seemed happy enough now.

“Rather,” Wesley agreed softly.

“Well, you guys may have time to stand around and talk about whether or not Angel is copping a jock attitude, but I have a whole bunch of cleaning to do. I don't know why you couldn't have picked a cleaner house. I mean really, there are lots of good houses around here. You'd only have to kill a couple people.”

Xander's eyes popped open and he leaned to the side so that he could look around Angel at Harmony, but she was already heading back out to the car. Sometimes it was easy to forget Harmony was a vampire. Other times, not so much.

Spike threw himself on the end of an old couch, a puff of dust rising into the air as he landed. “Peaches got his knickers in a twist about Dawn.”

“Dawn?” Xander frowned. Angel liked Dawn. If he was going to be honest, Angel liked Dawn long before the rest of them. Through most of high school, Xander was even pretty sure Angel liked Dawn more than him. Dawn had that effect on people. They liked her. Well, except Buffy. Xander didn't have any siblings, but he was pretty sure that trying to sell your sister to a gypsy wasn't good. And Jenny Giles had always been on the fence with Dawn. Of course, Dawn had a bad habit of saying exactly what she thought about people, and she never had liked Jenny much. That probably had a lot to do with it. That's probably the same reason why Spike liked her. Dawn did have a mouth.

“I don’t remember her,” Angel said.

Xander blinked. He was pretty sure memory loss was a bad thing. “Sure you do,” he said in his best encouraging voice. Freaking out probably wouldn't help, so he'd save that for plan B. “She used to give me shit about me giving you shit back when we were more people who hung out together out of some sort of mutual masochism than friends,” Xander reminded Angel.

Spike snorted.

“The demon remembers that.” Angel tilted his head to the side. Xander waiting for more, but that was it.

“Which is of the good since it happened.” Xander spoke slowly, still not sure exactly what weirdness was going on in Angel's brain.

“The soul doesn’t.”

“Doesn’t what?”

“Doesn’t remember that,” Angel said. And clearly the crazy was a gift that kept on giving.

“Angel, maybe your soul is having a little brown out, you know, like when too many people turn on their air conditioners in summer, only with something memory related.” Xander was starting to have a really bad feeling about this.

Now Spike was looking at both of them like they were crazy; however, Angel shook his head. “The soul doesn’t remember. The demon…. Why didn’t I turn Dawn? I wanted her.”

“Whoa, hey there, no talking about turning anyone,” Xander interrupted. “There will be no turning of Dawn or even discussion of motivations for or against the turning of Dawn anywhere that Buffy is likely to hear. Badness lies that way.”

“Quite so,” Wesley agreed softly.

“Luv, I don't care what brain cells got knocked loose, you'll never forgive yourself if you turn the Bit. You just leave her be,” Spike said. The tone was friendly, but Xander could still hear the warning it in, and Angel’s eyes yellowed. Yep, Angel was still the king of his mountain, and he did not want Spike trying to push him off the top.

“Yep, you don’t want to turn Dawn, so if something is telling you that you want to turn her, that something is lying,” Xander agreed.

Angel looked down at him, the yellow fading from his eyes. “I always wanted to turn her. You’d change, and I don’t want you to change, but Dawn….” Angel tilted his head, and his gaze drifted across the room.

“He’s been like that every time someone mentions Dawn, which is a good sight better than how he’s been when either of us mentioned you,” Spike said as he leaned back and propped a boot on the edge of the couch. “He’s been a right git about not having you here. I felt like we had Angelus back there for a bit.”

Xander studied Spike. That wasn’t the sort of thing Spike would say lightly. That was more a subtle sort of warning, subtle like Spike never did subtle.

“Perhaps we can discuss our adversary,” Wesley suggested. “After comparing notes with Buffy, I’m afraid that I can’t give her high marks for her performance. I find that she’s been relying heavily on technology and the Army, ignoring the magical arts and her own mystical powers as the slayer.”

Xander squirmed around so that his back was to Angel. It made it easier to have a conversation with the others, even if Angel’s hands did slip under the hem of Xander’s shirt and trace small circles on his stomach. His cock really was getting a little too interested. It made it hard to get the blood to go to the big brain; maybe that’s why it seemed like there were a lot of things not making sense.

“Why would Buffy be ignoring the magic?”

“Maybe because she figured her watcher is a git who nearly destroyed an ally because he couldn’t pull his head out of his arse long enough to see he married a shrew as bad as Darla on her worst day,” Spike offered with a smile.

“Okay, ignoring that all that is true,” Xander admitted, “it still doesn’t explain why Buffy would be all anti-magic girl.”

Wesley settled back into his desk chair. “I’m not sure her attitude is anti-magic as much as she is simply dismissing the magical opportunities for intelligence gathering and counter-attack.”

“And again… why?” Xander asked. Wesley and Spike exchanged a look that made Xander’s heart pound a little faster. “What happened?” he demanded. “Why isn’t Willow in there giving Buffy the old magic-good speech? What happened to her?”

“Nothing, pet,” Spike hurried to say. “It’s her little friend.”

“Tara?” Xander’s mouth went dry as he thought of Tara’s shy smile and her kind face. Oh god, please not Tara.

“M'fhear?” Angel asked with just a little growl in his voice, his arms tightening around Xander, holding him close.

“She’s been hurt,” Spike said, but the words sent relief rushing through Xander. Hurt. Not killed, hurt. But if she was hurt, Willow would be all about Tara, which explained Buffy’s lack of magical back-up. “Seems like Glorificus thinks Buffy has a key that can open dimensions, and she’s stirring her fingers through people’s brains trying to find it.”

“And she stirred her fingers through Tara’s brain? Okay, that’s not sounding good. That’s sounding like we may need all sorts of psychiatric care in this town.”

Spike snorted. “That’s not the half of it, luv. Tara’s right ‘round the bend, now. She spends her time staring at nothing and finger painting. You can knock, but there’s no one home. The witch has been spending her time at the military hospital with her little friend, and with Angelus on the loose, the slayer didn’t call us.”

“Which is understandable,” Xander pointed out.

“It bloody well is not,” Spike snapped. Angel immediately began to growl, his eyes yellowing as he pressed forward, but Xander threw his weight back into Angel, temporarily holding him in place. Putting both feet on the ground, Spike coiled as if he was about to leap up to meet a challenge.

“Oh good lord,” Wesley complained loudly. “Have we forgotten that we came here to fight Glorificus, not each other? Really, Xander, you ought not allow these two to travel without you as chaperone, Xander.”

“Oi!” Spike protested loudly. Angel just kept up with the low growl.

“They have been fighting, and while I must admit that Angel has been most unreasonable, Spike has not gone out of his way to avoid antagonizing him. However, to focus on the adversary, I have found a number of interesting facts. The texts,” Wesley took a huge book off the top of a pile, “suggest that Glorificus was banished to this dimension, doomed to be locked within a prison.”

“Okay, that didn’t work,” Xander muttered.

“Oh the contrary, it might have,” Wesley said. “Angelus was quite aggressive about collecting texts that related to demons capable of bringing Armageddon. Apparently he’d had some experience centuries ago with one particular demon who had the power to extinguish the sun, and it made him wary of any creature of such power. Therefore, his library has extensive research on the various higher level demons. According to the text I’ve found, her enemies locked Glorificus in a prison through which she could see only a shadow of the world, experience only a fraction of the joy and perceive only the barest minimum of the world around her.”

“So they put her in the hole?” Xander guessed. He’d watched enough prison movies to know that when you got put in the hole, it never ended well. Insanity and gory prison breakout tended to follow. Did demons never watch television? They should know these things.

“Ah,” Wesley said, and that was an all-knowing sort of ah. “But that is the description the Cha’atai demons use to identify humans. Humans,” Wesley said as he flipped the pages of the text, “are animals which can perceive only the shadow, not the substance of the world. They experience only a small fraction of the joy or the anguish of the true forms of demons and they can perceive nothing which does not present itself to the beast’s limited senses.” Wesley finished and turned the text around to show Xander the page with all the weird little squigglies that looked like someone had let a three year old loose with a fountain pen, like that meant anything to Xander.

“So….” Xander asked.

“He means that Glorificus is attached to a human, mate.” Spike gave a vicious grin. “And I know how to end a human.”


	57. 57

Xander walked into the room Harmony said was theirs and sat on the bed. She’d made it with sheets and a quilt from home, but this definitely wasn’t home. The old mansion had good bones, but everything was crumbling to dust. Even though Harmony had swept and vacuumed, she couldn't fix the insect holes in the molding or the long cracks in the old plaster. Angel followed into the room and closed the door behind him. For a moment, Angel just looked at him.

Angel was definitely looking more sane-ish, even if he wasn't totally back in the land of the sane. Maybe Xander had just borrowed some of the crazy for a while. There would be a weird sort of justice in sharing the crazy. The major problem was that Xander didn't really know when he was going to start growling and snapping at people again. He was just lucky that Faith and Cordelia were actually pretty used to being growled and snapped at. Well, that and he was lucky that neither one of them actually took him seriously when he threatened to gut Faith and growled at Cordelia. If they’d been vampire and felt even one little bit threatened, that could have ended so very much worse.

“You're upset,” Angel said as he studied Xander.

“What? No I’m not.”

“You smell sour, and your heart beats faster than it should,” Angel said in a matter-of-fact voice. Oh yeah, vampires were so very annoying.

“Okay, I know we've had this discussion before, but it's really kinda creepy when you sniff me.”

Angel just tilted his head to the other side. It was hard to have conversations when the other half of the conversation was only engaging with reality about a quarter of the time. Half the conversation times one quarter of the time equalled 1/8 of an actual ability to talk. That wasn't exactly a good percentage.

When Angel didn't respond, Xander sighed and tried to figure out another way to explain it. “Angel, I'm not upset with you.”

“Are you upset with Spike?” Angel asked. From the way, Angel asked that, Xander got the impression that Angel would be perfectly happy to go down and beat the crap out of Spike. Xander wasn't sure how to explain that it was pulling Angel out of heaven and finding himself irrationally interested in eviscerating people and the threat of the world ending all coming together in one big ball of bad that was upsetting him. Spike was part of the bad, but he wasn't even a big part of it. Okay, maybe a biggish part since he was the one voting to kill a human.

“No. Not exactly,” Xander admitted.

“You're lying.” Yellow seeped into Angel's eyes, but he looked more confused than anything else.

“Not technically,” Xander pointed out. He almost went into one of Blair’s speeches about lying versus obfuscation, but that wouldn’t exactly help Angel's confusion. “I'm upset about the world possibly ending. I'm upset that Glorificus is running around. I'm upset that they canceled La Femme Nikita, because that's the best show on television right now, especially since they cancelled Xena and Star Trek: Voyager, too. It has not been a good year for TV.” Xander gave Angel a goofy grin.

“And you're upset with Spike.” Angel tilted his head to one side as though he could understand Xander if he could just figure out the right angle to look at him.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Xander struggled with a way to explain this to Angel. A year ago, he wouldn’t have needed to explain anything. But, things changed. Angel changed. Xander changed. There was a lot of change going on, and sometimes it got a little confusing.

“I'm upset at something that Spike might have to do.”

Angel reversed the direction of the tilt of his head. Xander never thought that he would miss Angel's one track mind and annoying habit of bringing every conversation back to God and Father Peter. But this new silent version of Angel was way more annoying than the old moral version. And actually, considering that Angel had recently had a close encounter of the God kind, Angel really wasn't talking much about God. Of course, Angel wasn't talking much at all.

“Spike is going to kill the human that's attached to Glorificus,” Xander explained, even though Angel had been in the room to hear the same conversation Xander had.

Angel's eyes turned up baleful yellow and he growled low with his chest. At first, Xander thought Angel didn’t like the idea of killing a human. He generally did veto murder. “She's a threat to you,” Angel said darkly, so Xander was guessing that Angel was actually okay with Spike’s plan.

“She's pretty much a threat to everyone. But if some human is attached to her? If someone is getting used like the demonic version of Alcatraz? I don't know.” Xander sighed and struggled with his own feelings on this one. Armageddon bad. Murder bad. Murder to stop Armageddon was falling in the morally murky end of the pool.

“I don't know if it's okay to kill someone just because it would save the world. But I don't know if it's okay to not kill someone when not killing someone would mean the world would end. And I don't even know whether this is a good guy or bad guy. I mean, if we’re talking about Glorificus’ life force being attached to some assassin for the mob, I'm okay with Spike eating him. But what if her life is attached to a five-year-old? What if cutting her off from this universe means that we have to kill some ninety-seven-year-old grandmother? What does that say about me that I'm actually better killing the ninety-seven-year-old grandmother that the five-year-old? I mean, at least the grandmother you could talk to. You could point out that her grandkids would definitely be better off without a hell-god ending the world. But what do you say to a five-year-old? ‘Hey sweetie, suck on this lollipop while we kill you?’ That's sounding slightly creepy in a completely absolutely disgustingly creepy way.” Xander looked up at Angel. “And you don't understand any of this. You’re still off in philosophical Timbuktu.”

For several seconds, Angel just stared at Xander, his head tilted to the side and a deep frown on his face. In a cartoon world, Xander would expect to see smoke coming out of Angel’s ears as his brain overheated.

“Should I stop Spike?” Angel asked. The worst part was that Angel could stop Spike. That meant that if Spike went and killed someone, Xander carried part of the blame because he had the power to stop Spike.

Still not sure he was doing the right thing, Xander shook his head. “I'm going with no.” He thought about that answer for a minute. “I also reserve my right to change my mind if it turns out that Glorificus is attached to some five year old. Seriously, this is one big mess.” Xander sighed. “Do you understand any of this?”

“I understand that I need you,” Angel said as he moved closer.

“You understand that, huh?” Xander could feel guilt gnawing at the edges. Need had pulled Angel out of heaven. There was a special place in hell for people who pulled other people out of heaven.

“I understand…” Angel stopped. Xander waited for Angel to find whatever word he was searching for, but Angel reached up and cupped either side of Xander’s face in his large hands.

“Angel?”

“I need you,” Angel whispered, his thumbs tracing the corner of Xander’s mouth. Xander’s blood all went south. Reaching up, Xander caught Angel’s hands. He loved Angel. He did. And his cock definitely lusted after Angel. But it was like Angel wasn’t all Angel. He was sort of half-Angel and half-crazy heaven-boy who was still trying to figure out how to deal with being back on earth.

Angel tilted his head. “You need me.” The whispered words made Xander close his eyes. He did need Angel. It made him a really shitty person, but he did. Angel’s hands skimmed over Xander’s skin, fingers brushing over Xander’s neck before landing on his shoulders. “Look at me. Please.”

Xander looked up, and Angel gazed down at him with large brown eyes full of lust. Glancing down, Xander could see the bulge in Angel’s pants, and his own cock started to harden. “This is probably such a bad idea because you’re not really you right now.”

“Yes I am,” Angel disagreed. He pressed on Xander’s shoulders, a gentle nudge at first and then harder when Xander resisted. The moment of doubt passed, and Xander yielded, landing on his back, and Angel followed him, his hand braced on either side of Xander as he hovered over him. “I didn’t like being away from you.”

“Um, yeah. I was having that same feeling, which might be something to have Wesley research once—” Xander’s words cut off with a squeak when Angel arched his back and pressed their groins together. “Oh shit.” It had been too long. Oh, Xander had lots and lots of sex with Angelus, but this look? These brown eyes watching him, searching for some way to drive Xander crazy? That was all Angel. And it had been way too long.

Reaching up, Xander braced his hands on Angel’s arms, feeling the strength in them. Angelus was like riding a wild horse, exciting but always with this edge of wondering if you were about to break your neck. Angel was strength controlled; Angel made Xander feel safe enough that Xander could let go of all the worries that chased him through the day. Even now, he could feel all the very real problems start to fade to gray as his little brain quickly started taking over the thinking. Angel rocked slowly, holding his own weight as he thrust against Xander.

“Oh shit,” Xander gasped, his hands scrambling to get his jeans open before something important got smushed, but Angel covered his body, blocking Xander’s hands no matter how much Xander squirmed.

“Shhhh a’choi,” Angel murmured as he lowered his weight onto Xander. Hissing with frustration, Xander grabbed Angel’s shoulders and arched up.

“Faster, maybe?” Xander asked.

Angel took a moment to mouth at Xander’s neck, running dull teeth over the skin so that Xander shivered. “No,” Angel whispered, his breath tickling Xander’s ear.

“No?” Xander coughed and tried to bring his voice down out of the soprano range. “Faster would be good.”

“No it wouldn’t,” Angel disagreed before he went back to softly nibbling at Xander’s neck. One of Angel’s fingers threaded through Xander’s thick hair, and Xander could feel all his blood rush south. These slow, soft touches always made him come apart at the seams. During his whole search for sexual identity, Xander had gone on websites and seen guys talk about how they wanted a hard fast fuck. And to be honest? Sometimes that was really nice. Really, really nice. But the slow tease of Angel’s tongue tracing the muscle of his neck, the damp trail that quickly cooled in the air, the fingers in his hair holding him, the thumb tracing small circles against his temple… that was all pretty much better than anything quick and hard.

Angel’s weight slowly settled on Xander, pinning him so that Xander couldn’t move much except his hands. Using the little freedom he had, Xander stroked up and down Angel’s arms, cool silk sliding under his palms as he felt Angel’s muscles gather and bunch. Yet, despite all the strength, Angel moved slowly, gentle kisses moving down over Xander’s collarbone before moving toward the spot of skin where the collarbones met. Xander swallowed and he could feel Angel’s lips against his throat as his Adam’s apple rose and fell.

“Love your heat,” Angel said, his breath tickling across Xander’s neck. Xander dug his fingers into Angel’s arms and thrust up into that strength, his body struggling to find the right pressure to just drop down into the perfect orgasm he could feel just out of reach. “Love your hands reaching for me, love the feel of you under me.”

Xander didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he opened them. Talking during sex was more of an Angelus kind of thing, but the slow move of lips across Xander’s neck until Angel reached his other shoulder… that really was all Angel. Angel sucked gently, and Xander could feel the heat gather under the skin. Angelus would have bitten by now, his sharp fangs sliding in so smoothly that Xander wouldn’t feel it until the short front teeth pricked his skin. When Angel hummed against the warm skin, Xander squirmed wildly, pulling Angel closer and finally wrapping his hand around the back of Angel’s neck and clinging as every spare brain cell shut down and sent blood south.

Angel chuckled, and Xander could feel the vibrations more than he could actually hear the sound. He thought Angel might be ready for the main event, but Angel just returned to torturing him with slow kisses. This time, lips moved back toward the center, and Angel slipped his hands between their bodies.

“Angel,” Xander begged, not even able to form the right words to explain that Angel was killing him.

“Shhhh,” Angel’s breath danced over Xander’s hot skin, cooling him before Angel placed another kiss. A quick tug, and Xander realized one of his shirt buttons had died in the name of the cause. A half-second later, Angel placed a kiss on the newly exposed skin.

Struggling to get an elbow under him, Xander tried to sit up. If he could just get his hands on Angel, or more accurately, on Angel’s cock, he could definitely speed up the process. However, Angel easily pushed him back down without even pausing in his work. With a hand braced over Xander’s heart, Angel held him down. With his other hand, Angel pulled Xander’s shirt open one button at a time, exploring each inch of exposed skin.

Xander gulped down air, his body gathering heat until he could feel every centimeter of skin. He was one giant nerve and Angel gently kissed the skin just above the belly button. Practically exploding, Xander pulled at Angel, his short fingernails scraping over the silk of Angel’s shirt. Angel gave a short hiss, and then he sat up, pulling his shirt off so fast that Xander could only blink before Angel was back on top of him.

When Xander pulled Angel close, he could feel his fingers slip against the sweat damp skin, but Angel still yielded to his tugs, closing the distance between their mouths until Xander could arch up and kiss him hungrily. Angel might be in a mood for slow, tender torture, but Xander wanted more. He wanted to glut himself and then lay in bed with his brains dribbling out.

Angel opened his mouth to the assault, allowing Xander’s tongue to press in where Angelus would have taken control back. However, when Xander reached down for Angel’s pants, Angel pressed his body down. Xander’s cock, already trapped inside a pretty tight pair of jeans, sent up flares of distress as Angel’s weight pressed down, and worse, Xander couldn’t get to Angel’s fly.

“Please, Angel,” Xander pleaded.

Ignoring the request, Angel went back to slowly freeing one button at a time from Xander’s shirt, placing gentle kisses that tickled the scattering of hair that started well above Xander’s belly button. Trying a new tactic, Xander wrapped his legs around Angel and thrust up. The pressure almost killed him… either that or it almost made him come in his pants. For a second, Xander thought he’d found the key. Angel stopped and raised his head, his eyes yellow as he studied Xander. Xander threw his head back and humped up into Angel again. He really was on the verge of coming in his pants, but then Angel’s large hands landed on his hips, holding him down as Angel scooted a little farther down and pulled the last button open. Then he placed a kiss just below Xander’s belly button, and Xander was pretty sure he was broken. Broken and about to die if he didn’t get to come.

He threw his hands wide and fisted the sheets as he fought Angel’s grip. Angel pressed a kiss lower, just above the waistband of Xander’s jeans.

“Please, just do it. You’re going to feel bad if my heart explodes,” Xander pointed out.

“It won’t,” Angel said with a whole lot more confidence than Xander felt. Xander was pretty sure he was going to die in the very near future if Angel kept this up.

Angel pressed one more kiss to the sensitive skin just above the button and then he did something with his teeth and Xander’s jean button came open.

“Yes,” Xander gasped.

Angel gave another of those Angelusy chuckles. “Not so fast,” he warned, his fingers pressing deep into Xander’s hips. Xander grabbed Angel’s wrists and squirmed. He wanted to rip his pants off and thrust up into Angel or have Angel take Xander’s cock in his mouth or have Angel flip him over and fuck him. Xander wasn’t picky at this point. Anything resembling sex would work as long as it ended in bliss and messy sheets.

“You smell so good,” Angel whispered. Xander could only groan. Most of his blood was now in his cock, and Xander could feel the throbbing pain edging toward a not good place. Just as a sliver of worry started to creep into Xander’s awareness, Angel mouthed Xander’s cock right through Xander’s white underwear. Angel sucked at the head of Xander’s cock, and the cloth between the cock and Angel’s mouth dulled the feeling, it made air move around Xander’s overly-hot skin, and then Xander felt his whole body tighten as his orgasm finally crashed through him, making his whole body twitch and stiffen as Angel pinned him down and continued to mouth Xander’s now-messy underwear.

The pleasure rolled through his body in waves, and Xander had to gasp between each new shiver that drove the air out of him again. Angel’s mouth gentled against his cock without abandoning its task, and Xander’s muscles slowly loosened until his arms flopped against the mattress and Xander’s whole body sagged. His lungs burned as if he’d been running, and his whole body felt like a frame with missing screws so that everything was loose and tipsy and one good shove might send it over. Xander figured one shove would either make him fall asleep or make all his limbs fall off because he definitely didn’t feel held together very well. In fact, Angel’s hands against his hips might be the only thing holding him together.

Angel gave another of those Angelusy chuckles, and as Xander lay with his body limp, he figured he should probably worry about that. He should. He just couldn’t.

Angel stroked Xander’s stomach, his fingers slipping under the waist of Xander’s open jeans before he pulled and Xander found himself neatly stripped of jeans and underwear in one motion.

“Naked good,” Xander agreed sleepily, even though his brain was off-line and his sated cock lay nestled in its hair. Short of magic, Xander was temporarily all used up.

“My beautiful boy. My m’fhear,” Angel said as he stood and stripped his own pants off. Angel definitely hadn’t come. His cock stood up, thick and dark. Xander’s tongue slipped out and he licked his bottom lip as he thought about the taste of Angel’s cock. He loved the feeling when Angel would shout out, his body jerking as he came in Xander’s mouth. Angelus never let Xander spend long minutes teasing and nuzzling at the heavy balls before finally sucking at the heavy cock. However, before Xander could offer, Angel flipped him over. Xander gave a squeak and pulled his arms in closer as Angel’s strength moved him as easily as a doll.

Angel pulled off Xander’s shirt, and then straddled him, pinning Xander down on the bed. “M’fhear,” Angel whispered again as he pulled Xander’s shirt off before exploring with his hands. His touch was somewhere between a caress and a massage, and sleep tugged at Xander as the last of his muscles relaxed into the touch.

Leaning forward, Angel rested his weight on Xander’s back and ran fingers through Xander’s hair for a second before he gently turned Xander’s head so Xander’s forehead pressed to the pillow. The position made the back of Xander’s neck arch out, and Angel kissed the curve of it before starting to suck at the tender skin.

Still half asleep, Xander couldn’t manage more than a happy hum as Angel ran dull teeth over the damp skin. The heat gathered in the back of Xander’s neck, a slow burn that send threads of warmth through his entire body. Even Xander’s sated cock gave a little happy twitch—right before it went right back to sleep. When Xander sucked in a quick breath, shifting his neck just a little, he felt Angel’s short front teeth prick his skin. Xander’s heart tripped out a quick step. Angel was biting him. Angel never bit him. Angelus did lots and lots of biting, but not Angel.

The tendrils of happy heat faded and Angel shifted around a bit before kissing the skin tenderly, his fingers still threaded in Xander’s hair and holding him down.

“Hush, love. You’re fine. I just want to feel my beautiful boy,” Angel whispered.

“Angel?” Xander asked softly. His body fit comfortably under Angel, still, but his mind had shrugged off some of post-sex lethargy.

“Yes?” Angel’s hands moved down Xander’s shoulders and then his arms, stroking the skin reverently.

“You’re not feeling the need to go kill anyone, are you?”

“No. Only Harmony, but I won’t upset Cordelia over such a trivial matter,” Angel said, his voice distant and still heavy with lust. Okay, that sounded way more like Angel than Angelus. Angelus had a habit of twitching when people brought up Cordelia. Badly.

“Shhhh. This is just us, a’choi,” Angel promised, his voice soft. His hands stroked down to Xander’s hip and then a finger that was suddenly slick slid between Xander’s legs, circling his hole.

“Nice, now you get to the main even when I’m too tired to care,” Xander teased softly.

“I can make you care,” Angel answered playfully. Xander smiled. Oh yeah, that was Angel. That was all Angel. Angelus might be damn good at sex, but he couldn’t hold a candle to Angel because Xander always felt like the center of the world when Angel’s hands were on him. “I can’t make you care so much that you forget your name,” Angel promised. That sounded slightly more Angelusy, but then Angel slipped a slick finger inside Xander and started plunging his finger in and out of Xander.

The heat Xander had been shedding started to gather again. Xander groaned as his cock tried valiantly and miserably failed to react. Angel added a second finger quickly, stretching the muscle around the hole, and Xander squirmed in pleasure. The stretch always felt so good, like scratching a really deep itch. It was just strange to scratch the itch with his cock already put up for the night. Still good, but different.

Angel shifted back, and Xander opened his legs in invitation. Almost immediately, Angel moved back in place and a blunt cock pushed against his hole. Xander pushed back to make it easier for Angel to slip inside, not that Angel could really slip. It was more like careful shoving and stuffing and stretching as Angel inched inside Xander. He felt full, and when that fullness reached Xander’s prostate, he groaned at the frisson of pleasure that travelled up his spine.

Usually about this time Xander was gasping and squirming and totally focused on his cock. Now, though, he could feel the stretch, the fullness as Angel pressed all the way in and then started to pull back so that the friction caused just enough slick heat to make Xander squirm. He was still processing how good it all felt when Angel thrust in again, this time faster.

The pressure against his prostate made Xander’s air leave his body in a huff of air, and the slick wasn’t enough to keep him from feeling every inch of Angel’s cock as it then dragged across the tightly stretched skin of Xander’s hole. Xander’s breath came in little gasps as Angel started to speed up, each thrust now ending with the slap of Angel’s thighs against Xander’s backside.

Xander arched his back and let himself sink into the feeling of Angel’s body moving against his, Angel’s cock filling him while his own soft cock lay quiet. Normally his cock and ass were involved in the sex, but the rest of him checked out along the way. Now Xander could feel the way Angel’s fingers pressed deeply into the muscle of Xander’s back, eight perfectly spaced points that would be tiny bruises tomorrow. Angel might not need to breathe, but Xander could hear each ragged gasp as Angel sucked in lungfuls of air. Slowly pushed farther up the mattress with each thrust, the top of Xander’s head nudged the headboard just as Angel came with a shout and a brutal series of thrusts that sent Xander’s head thunking into the headboard with enough force to sting.

Xander got his hands up to brace himself against the headboard as Angel finished out the last few thrusts and then collapsed onto Xander, his breath skittering across the skin of Xander’s shoulder. Given time, Angel would remember he didn’t need to breathe, but right now, feeling Angel’s shaking body and hearing his uneven gasps and feeling Angel’s half-hard cock still deep inside Xander… right now, Xander thought the world was perfect.


	58. 58

Xander came out of the bathroom followed by a cloud of steam. The hot water heater worked, but Xander smelled like rust, so he was guessing the pipes weren’t exactly in tip-top shape. That seemed right, somehow. Xander wasn’t feeling particularly tip-top shapish himself. Sex with Angel should count as aerobic activity, and his aches were aching. When Xander was a few steps into the room, an arm caught him from behind, wrapping around his waist and pulling him close. Xander leaned back into Angel’s arms. Making a little humming noise, Angel placed a kiss on Xander’s neck, right over last night’s bite.

“Good morning,” Xander said.

“Very good,” Angel agreed. His hands slipped under the waistband of Xander’s jeans, and Xander figured they were going to end up having more very athletic sex if he didn’t get them focusing on business. Actually, he should have taken his shirt into the bathroom with his jeans because even half-dressed was way too undressed unless it led to imminent sexage. When Xander leaned back, he could feel the hard lump in Angel’s jeans, too. The world had a funny sense of humor with Spike trying to focus on saving the world and Angel off looking for sex.

“So, are you feeling more sane?” Xander asked as he tried to pull away. For a moment, Angel held him, but then his arm loosened and Xander slipped out of Angel’s grip.

Angel tilted his head as though trying to figure out the words.

Xander sighed. Great. Last night, he definitely seemed on the road to sanity, but now that they were trying to figure out how to stop a hell-god, Angel had done some backsliding. “Okay, I’m taking that as a no. Just stop saying that you don’t remember Dawn, okay?” Xander asked.

“The demon remembers her,” Angel immediately answered.

“And again with the being weird.” For one brief moment, Xander wallowed in some self-pity about having to explain this again. However, if he couldn’t pound it into Angel’s head, no one could. “Angel, Dawn loves you. I was all screwy in the head because my parents tried to sell me, only with less trying than actually doing it.” Xander made a face. “But if they had forgotten me, there wouldn’t have been enough therapy in the world to handle that. And here you are, the vamp she crushed on for years, saying that you can’t remember her. You can see where that would do mucho with the damage, yes?”

Angel frowned.

With a sigh, Xander grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. “Seriously, Angel, if you don’t want to send her running to therapy, you need to stop talking like that.”

“I don't….” Angel stopped and his frown deepened. “Reality is different.”

“Compared to heaven, I'm guessing, yes, it is. Actually, if reality isn't different from heaven, I'm kind of saying that heaven sucks.”

“No. This reality is different.” Angel sounded frustrated, and Xander studied him for a second.

“We just agreed on that,” Xander reassured him. Angel might've come back from heaven with some serious sex skills, and Xander wasn't sure he wanted to spend a lot of time thinking about how that happened, but sanity was a little harder to come by. Xander sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed his socks.

Angel stepped closer, and when Xander tossed a shirt at him, Angel put it on and started buttoning it up while continuing the conversation. “When I left—”

“Do you mean when Jenny ripped your soul out?” Xander was still feeling a little sensitive on that subject. If life were fair, Glory would be attached to Jenny. Then they could kill Jenny and feel extra special good about it. Well, he might not feel good exactly, but he would feel totally and completely justified.

Angel seemed to take a long time to think about Xander's words, and Xander started tying his shoes. “When Jenny pushed my soul out,” Angel restarted, “Dawn did not exist. Joyce had only one child, and when Buffy's father did not return after the first summer—”

“Buffy and Dawn were both hurt,” Xander said fiercely. If Angel went and ignored Dawn’s pain over their idiot sperm-donor and his abandonment, more than one person would kill Angel. Actually, Xander still wasn’t completely convinced that Spike hadn’t tracked down Hank Summers and cut him into little pieces for some scavengers to eat. Spike sure as hell wouldn’t touch the asshole’s blood, that’s for sure.

Despite Xander’s warning, Angel kept going. “No, Dawn was not. Buffy smelled of pain, but Dawn was not there. Buffy had no one to talk to.” Angel's head cocked to the side. “But the demon remembers Dawn's pain, too.” Angel finished buttoning up his shirt and his hands drops to his side as he just stared at Xander as if Xander could make any sense out of all of this. Clearly Angel had forgotten that Xander was not the big thinker in the group. Xander was the fixer. Xander was the person who could get a toilet working. Xander was even the person who occasionally told vampires that it was wrong to commit murder. Xander was not the thinker.

“Seriously? This whole thing with Dawn is starting to creep me out.”

“Reality confuses me,” Angel said, and Xander snorted. He was pretty sure Angel needed a bigger word than confuse. “But I know that my soul has never seen Dawn before.”

Xander took a deep breath and thought about that before he grabbed Angel's socks and boots off the ground and thrust them at Angel. “No offense Angel, but your demon and your soul seemed to be acting a little different since you got back. Like maybe your demon not quite as…” Xander let his words trail off as he tried to find a way to explain it. Angel definitely had more bits of Angelus showing through the cracks.

“The soul is not forced upon him,” Angel blurted out as if that was no big deal.

Xander had just finished with his last shoe, and he found himself frozen in place. Slowly he gazed up at Angel, fear clawing at his heart. “It's… What?”

“The curse pushed the demon on top of the soul.”

As answers went, that didn’t answer anything. “Okay….” Xander let his voice trail off as he waited for some sort of explanation. Right now he just had a whole lot of confusion going on. Unfortunately, Angel just looked right back at him as if what he had said was no more surprising then the sky was blue. Actually, since most of the time they were out at night, the unsurprising thing would be the sky is black, but Xander was pretty sure that the soul not being on top was a big deal. “Angel, can you explain in very small words,” Xander held up his forefinger and thumb to show exactly how small the words needed to be, “what you mean by that?”

Angel sat on the bed next to Xander and started pulling on his socks and boots. For a time there was silence in the room, and Xander could feel himself start to break into a nervous sweat. Xander was on the verge of starting a world-class of babble when Angel finished pulling on his boots and turned toward him. “The demon and the soul share the body. The demon cannot act without the soul allowing it, but the soul….” Angel’s head did another tilt. Xander was really starting to hate that particular gesture.

“Are you telling me that the soul lost veto power? Or maybe that the demon gained veto power?” The cold, nervous sweat was getting colder and nervouser. “Okay, seriously, smaller words Angel.”

For a second, Angel kept on with the confused silence. Eventually, though, he seemed to almost gather up his words like he had to plan them. “The demon would wish to turn Dawn. She was ours, and we lost her. The demon does not like to lose what is his.”

Okay, Xander could've guessed that one already. Angelus was one seriously possessive, jealous bastard.

“I would flee from Dawn. She is not part of reality. Buffy has no sister, and if I cannot understand her, I cannot defend you or my clan from her.” Angel frowned. “I am blocked from doing either.”

Xander let out a slow breath as it finally occurred to him what Angel was saying. “So unless the soul and the demon are both on board, the train isn't leaving the station?” Xander guessed.

Angel looked confused again. Angel often looked confused. Then again, if Xander had to share his body with the demon that got equal veto powers over what his body did, that would make him a little crazy too. Guilt, the familiar old friend, came creeping in and found a warm spot in Xander's soul to curl up for a nap.

“The demon rages less.”

“What?”

Angel reached over and put his hands on Xander's knee, his fingers curling around the curve of it. Angel had such strength in his hands, but his touch was still gentle. “The demon wants power. It has more power than it did for a hundred years under the curse.”

“But….” Xander swallowed. If this was Angelus as much as Angel, then Angelus should want to get rid of the soul. He should want to go out and kill nuns. He should want to go bathe in the blood of innocents. Only, when Angelus was out, there wasn't all that much bloodshed. The demon community did way more bleeding than the innocents. Mostly Angelus seem to want what Angel had. But he never got it. Spike and Cordelia came back only after Anyanka put the soul back in. Angelus had done great things for the hotel’s library and budget, but he hadn’t been all that good with the clan. “Does the demon want to do things the soul is vetoing?” Xander asked, his voice soft and careful. Xander thought he’d escaped having to walk that tightrope with Angelus’ ego, but maybe he wasn’t as done as he thought.

Angel tilted his head and seemed to think for a long time.

“Wait.” Xander leaped up. “You aren't thinking; you're debating what both of you are willing to say. You have to agree before you can say anything. Oh my God, that's Anyanka’s curse.” Xander had to admit, that was a good curse. The gypsies needed to take some lessons.

Angel nodded slowly. That brief moment of elation at having figured out the puzzle slowly drained from Xander as he realized just what this meant for both Angel and Angelus. They were forever locked together as equals.

“Oh Angel. Angelus. Both of you,” Xander sank down on the bed next to Angel. He had to think of this as Angel because otherwise, life would be too weird, but the idea that it was an Angel who was on a leash as short as Angelus’… that they could control each other… it was high on the freaky-meter.

“We don’t need pity,” Angel said, and for one second, the voice and the expression and the set of his shoulders was pure Angelus. Then that second passed, and the body language softened into something that looked more like Angel. “The bitch could not keep us from our clan, from you. She has done nothing that prevents us from having power or protecting our family.”

“And you can call her a bitch only because both Angelus and Angel agree that she is one, huh?” Xander guessed.

Angel nodded. “Powerful, but a bitch. Maybe your mother can avoid making any more wishes.”

“I’m all over that,” Xander quickly agreed.

“It could be worse.” Angel’s hand came up to cup Xander’s cheek. “I could have lost you to some fictional world. From 1753 until the curse came along a hundred and fifty years later, the demon had control. For a hundred years after that, the soul had control. If we must adapt to a new reality, that is more acceptable than having Anyanka steal you away.”

“Angelus talks more than Angel,” Xander said as the realization struck him. This sounded like Angelus.

“We both agree with the words or we would not speak them,” Angel said. So Angelus might talk more, but he didn't get to say things if Angel vetoed him. This was… this was really freaky. This was also why wish demons were called demons and not something fluffier and happier like wish fairies or wish granters who made everyone’s dreams come true.

“You need therapy more than I ever did,” Xander pointed out. There was a perfectly blank expression on Angel’s face for several long seconds, but now Xander was guessing that was less about Angel being confused than it was about Angel and Angelus having very different reactions to the thought of therapy. Unless they could agree on something to say, the body just got stuck. Yeah, this was going to be interesting. “Maybe you can just avoid the internal debates during any fighting,” Xander suggested. “I really don't want you dusted because the two of you couldn't agree on which weapon to grab.”

“That will not happen,” Angel said fiercely, a bit of growl in his voice.

“I’m glad,” Xander said as he stood up and headed for the door. “You still need therapy.” Before Angel or Angelus or Angel/Angelus could answer, Xander headed out the door and down the stairs. “Hey guys, new problem. Or maybe not a problem as much as new information. Or new situation. This might be situation-like.” Xander saw Wesley stick his head out of the dining room arch, and Spike came out from one of the back rooms, a worried look on his face. Yep, if Xander and Angel and Angelus were in a mess, at least they had family to keep them company in the mud pit of life.


	59. 59

Xander finished and looked at the other two. Wesley’s eyes were big, and he’d pulled his glasses off before Xander had finished his first sentence. Spike… well, he didn’t look as shocked, but he had gone perfectly still, and for Spike, still was not normal.

“Bloody hell. So Angel’s in there… the original Angel? Angelus?” Spike leaned forward in his chair and stared at Angel like he’d never seen him before. He was taking the whole thing better than Wesley who seemed to be trying to flatten himself against the far wall. Xander figured the man was going to have heart attack if they didn’t find a way to get the slave spell off him.

Angel narrowed his eyes. “I’ve always been in here,” he said darkly, and now that Xander knew what was going on, he could tell that was all Angelus. Spike did too because he leaned back in his chair.

“Never said you weren’t, ducks.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed more and Spike stood up and headed for the fireplace, his hands digging in the pockets of his duster.

“This is… I mean… quite remarkable.” Wesley seemed to have lost the power over complete sentences.

“I’m guessing that Anyanka is a little better with the cursing than gypsies,” Xander pointed out.

“And I suspect I’m not the only one she cursed,” Angel added. His expression softened, and he reached out to rest a hand on Xander’s knee. “You weren’t yourself after I left Los Angeles.”

“We’re talking about your curse here,” Xander said. The same thought had occurred to him, but he was trying really hard to ignore the possibility. “Well, that and the fact that Angel and Angelus have two different sets of memories, and only one includes Dawn. I’m thinking that’s not good.”

Spike leaned against the side of the fireplace, a cigarette between his fingers. “Right then, you’re still thinking you don’t know Dawn then?”

Angel nodded. “The soul never met Dawn. The demon remembers meeting Dawn when Xander first came to the apartment.”

“Which was back when the soul was still there,” Spike pointed out. “That sounds a little like you’ve gone ‘round the twist.”

Angel gave a low warning growl, and Spike held up his hands in surrender. “Not that I can’t think of a few other possibilities.”

“Really? Because I’m totally out of options other than Angel had his brains scrambled,” Xander said. Angel’s fingers tightened painfully against his knee for one moment before they loosened again. “And I would still love you, and I would still really enjoy having sex even if you did have scrambled brains, but I’m hoping Spike has a better explanation,” Xander offered with a shrug. Angel went totally expressionless again. Yep, Angelus was pissed at the suggestion. “And besides, I’m pretty sure I’m saying the soul has potential brain scrambling, not the demon,” Xander added.

Immediately Angel seemed to shake free with a quick twitch. “I don’t believe that either of us is having delusions,” Angel pointed out.

Crossing the room again, Spike dropped back down into the chair he’d abandoned just minutes earlier. “I can think of more than one reason for changing reality,” he mused. “The thing that bloody worries me is the amount of power it would take to do that. If we have someone who can change reality, that’s some big mojo.” Spike actually managed to look worried.

“Surely you don’t think anyone….” Wesley’s voice trailed off when Spike looked over with a cold expression.

“It’s been done before if the old master Heinrich can be believed. This is why I soddin’ hate mojo. People have too many ways to muck up the world for the rest of us.”

Wesley shoved his glasses back on his face. “So, you truly believe someone could… fabricate a human being? Fabricate memories for each of us?”

For a time, Spike was silent. Then he gave a nonchalant sniff and a shrug. “When we researched Anyanka, we found that she created all sorts of alternate realities. The buggers bled into each other more than once, too. If she has that power, others do, too. There’s no such thing as a unique magical skill, so you need to get into those books and figure out what kind of mojo we might be looking at.”

Ignoring the whole question of whether it was possible, Xander focused on the part that didn’t make sense to him. “Okay, is it just me that's not coming up with any good reason for inventing a baby sister? I mean, I like Dawn, I like her a lot. If someone was going to create a human being from scratch, they could do way worse than Dawn. But I'm thinking that magically inventing a little sister for the slayer is somewhat pointless.”

“Oh, I don't know about that, pet. It’d be a soddin’ good tactical move. And if Angel’s soul was banging around heaven when the spell got cast, it even makes sense that he didn’t get the update.”

“Sense?” Xander demanded. “What, annoy Buffy with the tagalong little sister until she gives up? I’m the first to say that I’m not good with planning, so maybe I’m missing something, but that seems more than a little stupid.”

“Luv, there are days that I think you're so innocent we should just find someplace safe and lock you up,” Spike said with the sort of fond look that made it clear he liked Xander, even when he thought Xander was a goober. Angel growled. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I didn’t say I would do it,” Spike said with an elaborate eyeroll. But you have to admit, he’d be a good site safer chained to your bed, Angel.” That seemed to satisfy both Angel and Angelus because he got a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Don’t even think about it,” Xander warned him, even though there was this little part of him that was terrified of pissing off Angelus. Or a big part of him. Living with Angelus had added a few new twists to his brain, and Xander had been through enough therapy to know they weren’t healthy turns. So instead of paying attention to any of the new turns in his brain, Xander just aimed a punch for Angel’s stomach. Angel let it land before he caught Xander’s wrist and held it, the shadow of a smile on his face. Angel raised one eyebrow, but Xander leaned into Angel without trying to reclaim his hand.

“How about you guys just explain exactly how this would be any kind of tactical advantage,” Xander asked, still leaning into Angel.

“Manipulative, isn’t he?” Spike asked with a nod toward Xander.

“Very. He’s also very transparent,” Angel agreed fondly before draping an arm over Xander’s shoulders and pulling him closer.

“Yep, that’s me. Manipulative, transparent, and really confused about why you guys seem to actually think Dawn might be something other than our Dawnie,” Xander agreed.

“It would seem to be a rather large outlay of magic for a rather questionable outcome,” Wesley agreed cautiously.

Spike gave another snort and bounced out of his chair before starting to pace. “Not so questionable. Imagine you're the local big bad. You want to make sure that the slayer doesn't shove her bloody big sword and you. Tell me the one person in this town that Buffy is not going to run a sword through.” Spike stopped and pinned each of them with a look.

Xander's heart sank down into his stomach. “You can't mean.” He stopped, not even wanting to say the nasty little thought that was growing in his brain. He tried to lean forward, but Angel’s arm held him, and Xander struggled, his heart beating faster as Spike didn’t reassure him that he’d just made the world’s worst joke.

“Hush, m’fhear,” Angel crooned softly.

“If I were Glory, I'd want whatever human I was attached to in the safest place possible. Having her in the same house with the slayer would be a bloody brilliant move. I could keep an eye on the enemy and emotionally gut her at any time,” Spike pointed out. His gameface came forward.

“But Dawn wouldn't – no.” Xander squirmed harder. “No, I've known Dawn forever and she wouldn't do that to Buffy. She loves Buffy. Okay, sometimes she loves to annoy Buffy to the point of homicide. But that kind of goes along with the little sister thing.”

“It could be she doesn’t know what she is,” Spike said. He shook his head and his demon features fell away leaving him looking more worried that Xander could ever remember seeing him look. Spike had gone up against the Nazi demon guys with their big old vampire and human burning technothingy without looking this upset. “I don’t rightly know how much power a hell god has, but if Glory can control who she’s attached to, and if she can gather up enough power, she might be able to create an avatar.” Spike ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip.

“A what?”

“Avatar. A human,” Spike said with a sigh, clearly annoyed at Xander’s lack of vocabulary. “If we’re right about Glory using her, there’s a good chance Dawn doesn’t even know, luv.”

“Okay, you’re talking like this is more likely than not, and that’s more than a little freaky. We don’t know any of this is true,” Xander said, desperate to defend Dawn. She was like a little sister, only one lucky enough to not have Tony Harris’ genes.

Spike came close and crouched down in front of Xander, both his hands on Xander’s knees. “That’s just one possibility, pet. I figure it’s just as likely that she’s some magic user who doesn’t have any other way to defend herself, so she’s hiding behind the slayer’s skirt. That actually sounds like something that a demon from Mayet’s group might try to pull off.”

“You think she could be another aspect of Ra?” Wesley took a step forward before practically collapsing into a chair near the door as if he couldn’t handle one more surprise without his knees giving out.

“Dawn?” Xander’s voice went up an octave. “She cried over long division. Cried.” Xander’s voice broke. “Do you really think that an aspect of Ra would cry over having to carry three? I mean, I did, too, but I’m not someone powerful enough to shift all of reality. And honestly? I don’t think Dawn is, either. I think she’s a little sister.”

Spike nodded and then pushed himself up using Xander’s knees. “There’s a good chance she believes that, pet. There aren’t many creatures that can lie to a vampire, and I didn’t notice anything amiss.”

“She smelled of Buffy,” Angel agreed. “And when I challenged her, she smelled of hurt and confusion. If she’d turned aggressive, even if she’d tried to hide it, I would have known. She believes she’s Buffy’s sister.”

Xander looked from Angel to Spike and back, but neither of them was saying the sorts of things that would make Xander feel better. “Saying that she probably believes she’d Buffy’s sister is not the same as saying she is Buffy’s sister. I would be much happier if we stopped talking about Dawn like a potential big bad. It’s doing strange things to my head.”

“Agreed,” Wesley said softly.

Spike and Angel exchanged a long look, the sort that reminded Xander that they had a hundred ways of communicating without ever talking. “Luv,” Spike started, “you know I love the Bit is much as you do.”

“Then why does it sound like you're finding some justification for taking potentially lethal action against a member of Buffy's family?” Wesley asked. Xander had been wondering the same thing, but he hadn’t wanted to say it out loud. The second someone said fatal or lethal or any other word in that general family, it was like jinxing them all. However, Wesley looked up with a fierce look on his face. “Such an action would lead to war, and the slayer has an impressive number of allies.” It occurred to Xander that Wesley had discovered a whole lot of backbone over the last few weeks. It was kind of weird; Angelus had actually been good for Wesley in a sick and twisted sort of way.

Spike flashed into gameface at the accusation. “I won't bloody do that unless I have no choice. But I am not going to put my family at risk. If Angel says that reality didn't include Dawn before he left, then something is going on.”

“It is,” Angel agreed. “I won’t go to war unless my family is at risk, but if Glorificus is hiding in Dawn, we will do what we have to.”

“And here I was having moral conniptions over the idea that Spike wanted to kill some random human we didn’t know. Spike killing Dawn is way, way more conniption-worthy,” Xander muttered.

“We’ll leave that to last resort,” Spike said firmly. Angel didn’t contradict him, so Xander figured that was the best promise he was getting out of either vampire. “But if it comes down to it, we’re strong enough to take care of Glorificus and Buffy if need be. I mean, Angel was a right treat to watch in a fight, but in the good old days, I saw Angelus take on some pretty impressive blokes. If the demon gets more influence here, Angel could take the slayer.”

“Not unless I have to,” Angel said firmly.

Spike went back to pacing. “Which is why I know you’ll get the job done. Angelus always played too much, and Angel didn’t bloody know how to play at all. If you two can agree on one attack plan, we’ll take out this god,” Spike said with confidence. Xander could feel Angel shift subtly. “Price, you find anything you can on reality shifters. Send Harmony back to LA for more books if you need them.”

“Where did she—”

“How the soddin’ hell would I know? Call her phone. That’s why she has one,” Spike snapped. Then he turned toward the couch. “Sire, any preference?”

“I should send you as bait,” Angel said.

“What?” Xander looked from one to another.

Spike grinning. “I’m brilliant at it.”

“But I can’t concentrate around Dawn.” Angel looked like he was pretty disgusted with himself about that. “You stay with Dawn. She’ll want to talk to you, and if I’m not there, you can easily explain it.”

“You were acting pretty barmy, earlier,” Spike agreed. “The slayer would probably be just as happy to have you keep your distance.”

“What bait?” Xander demanded.

“Can you handle Riley?”

Spike snorted. “You’re the one who always thought he’d take things too far, Peaches. Well, that or you thought I would. I never did have a problem with Finn. We’re not two mindless lieutenants battling for our clan leaders.”

“Bait?” Xander tried again.

“I’ll take bait, then,” Angel said firmly.

“Someone had better start explaining ‘bait’ to me in small words,” Xander threatened as he wrapped his fingers around Angel’s belt. If all else failed, he was clinging to Angel like a limpet until he knew his vampires weren’t about to do something really idiotic.

“In 1889 we had a hunter on our tail, some magic user who kept spotting our lairs. We couldn’t figure out who kept sending out the mob with the torches, so we split up,” Spike explained.

“Drusilla, Darla and I each watched a church. Young William played the bait.”

Spike grinned. “And we figured out which church was sending out the mobs.”

Xander made a face. “I’m not going to like how this story ends, am I?” he asked, seriously bothered by the idea of them doing their hunting thing with Dawn.

Angel went stone-faced again. It was Spike who had to answer. “Probably not, luv, but we’re not the same vamps this time around. I’ll keep an eye on Dawn, and Angel will see if he can flush out the hell-bitch. If he can, and Dawn’s still with me, that will narrow down a few things. Either they aren’t connected or Glorificus can appear without using her avatar’s body. Information is power.” Angel was still stone-faced as Xander looked over to Wesley for some sort of backup. Hunting and Dawn should not be in the same paragraph, much less the same sentence.

“It could narrow the possibilities,” Wesley said slowly.

Xander bit his lips as he realized he was the only person in the room who wasn’t in favor of this plan. Worse, he couldn’t come up with one reason against it, other than his gut really didn’t like the idea of even suspecting Dawn. And the more he didn’t like the idea of suspecting Dawn, the more he wondered if that was a rational response. Maybe someone had stirred up his brain to make him trust Dawn when he shouldn’t. If Xander didn’t have an ulcer by the end of the week, he was going to be surprised.

“You guys better not get Dawn killed… or get yourself killed… or even get any of you significantly maimed,” Xander warned.

Spike’s grin widened, and Angel shook himself out of that stone-faced silence.

“A’choi, trust that I will act only in our best interest,” Angel promised. He stood up and pulled Xander up with him. For a while, they stood holding each other. Xander accepted the tacit promise and sent up his own little prayer. Please, God, do not make Dawn the big bad. Xander’s stomach would never survive, and Xander wasn’t sure whether Buffy would listen to any explanation if the LA crew touched one hair on Dawn’s head. Xander wasn’t sure that he could forgive either Spike or Angel if they killed Dawn, not even if it took killing her to save the world. Clearly Xander’s morals were a little rusty if he was willing to let the world burn just to protect one person, but Xander knew his own faults. He always had been a selfish bastard when it came to family.

Eventually Xander loosened his hold around Angel’s waist, and Angel stepped back and brought his hand up to cup Xander’s face. “The mansion is spelled and safe, m’fhear. Stay here. I promise I will return.”

“No worries. I’ll bring him home safe as houses,” Spike agreed with a wink.

Angel gave Spike a dirty look, and then the two of them were heading for the door, and Xander was wondering exactly when his life had taken on this particular shade of being completely and totally screwed.


	60. 60

Xander shifted his weight from foot to foot. He didn’t feel bad about leaving the mansion… not even a little. However, he’d be a lot more comfortable if he could get back inside a house. Maybe the doorbell wasn’t working. Xander knocked on the door and waited impatiently. If Joyce didn’t answer soon, he was definitely going to have to rethink the whole wandering around Sunnydale at night plan.

Just when he was starting to think he would have to head back to the mansion, the lock clicked. Xander smiled, but as the door opened, that smile faded. Joyce looked gaunt and washed out, and she was answering the door in a robe at 8 pm.

“Mrs. Summers?” He could almost believe this wasn’t Joyce, but a pale imitator.

“Xander!” She smiled widely, but then she hesitated, her hand only half raised to meet him. “Oh my, how nice to see you. Why are you in town?” She stepped back, gesturing toward the house without actually issuing an invitation. Willow had told him that Buffy had finally come out to her mother on the whole vampire thing, so it was nice to see that she was being careful. It was less nice that she thought he might be a vampire. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“You look really tired. Maybe I should come back later,” he said, backing off a step.

“I’m fine. I’ve recently been in the hospital.”

“You what?” Xander’s voice cracked. He knew he didn’t have a great line to the Sunnydale gossip, but he would think that bit of information should have come up at some point.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Xander, you’re as bad as Buffy, I swear. But I want to hear everything that’s been going on in your life.”

“And you don’t want to invite me in first?” Xander guessed.

She gave him one of her motherly smiles. “Even if you are a vampire, I think I want to catch up with you, but I would rather know sooner rather than later. Besides, if you are a vampire, we definitely need a chaperone.” She stepped backwards toward her stairs, leaving the path to the living room open.

“If I were a vampire, you probably shouldn’t want to catch up with me. Catching up could involve arterial bleeding, Xander pointed out as he stepped into the house without an invitation.

“That seems to be the opinion in certain corners. Other corners seem to believe that vampires are more like hunting wild animals. Most will eat you, but there are a significant number that might choose to just have a cup of tea.” Joyce reached out and gave him a hug, but Xander could feel the weakness in her arms. It was a little freaky, because Xander always thought of Joyce as indestructible.

“Giles would be corner number one,” Xander guessed as he hugged her back carefully.

“Oh yes.” Joyce laughed and gestured him toward the living room. “You see, I had invited a man over for tea, a friend of Mr. Liam Angel. He was in the gallery and it turns out he has a very sharp eye for the abstract painters, and we had struck up a conversation.”

Xander dropped down onto the couch. “Please tell me you’re not talking about Spike, because if you’re suggesting that Spike is an art and tea sort, my brain is going to need all kinds of rearranging. Spike is a cheap vodka and rock concert sort.”

Joyce gave him a sympathetic sort of smile and sat on the other end of the couch. “I imagine when you live that long, you have time to be all sorts. But I’m afraid that Giles was quite furious when he found out Spike was coming here. Riley seemed to think that Spike’s interest came from either curiosity or a need to aggravate the life out of Buffy, and apparently our teas did that quite well when she found out.”

“Okay, that can’t have been pretty,” Xander guessed. He would love to hear that story, but Joyce was too classy to describe one of Buffy’s hissy fits. Instead she went back to talking about Spike.

“The fact is that Spike and I simply enjoyed our conversations. I am quite sure he would never have such poor manners as to eat me after we had debated the relative merits and popularity of Pollock versus Joan Mitchell.”

“Okay, that’s true. Spike is weirdly picky about who he eats.” Xander scratched the bit of skin above his ear and tried to figure out how this new piece of information fit into what he knew about Spike. Although, if Spike could discuss art well enough to impress Joyce, that actually made his relationship with Cordelia a little less totally incomprehensible. Other than incredible sex, Xander hadn’t ever been able to figure out how Spike kept her interest. When Xander had been dating her, he spent a lot of time nodding and agreeing when she talked about things like art and opera that didn’t make any sense at all. Maybe Spike was better with those sorts of conversations than Xander had been.

“So, how have you been doing in LA? I always ask Buffy about you, but lately, she’s been trying to hide something, and quite frankly, my daughter did not inherit my ability to lie.”

Xander pointed out, “She hides things good, though.”

“This I know.” Joyce shook her head and got that mother-weary look on her face. “She is an expert at hiding. But if you ask her a direct question, she can’t lie to save her life. So I know something has been going on with you.” Reaching over, Joyce put her hand on Xander’s knee. “Is it your parents?”

“Mom’s fine,” Xander quickly reassured Joyce. “She has an apartment over on Eaton.”

“And your father?” Joyce’s voice turned brittle.

Xander shrugged. “I have no idea. Once he reached the bottom of the bottle, he kinda liked it there, and I didn’t want to get between him and his one true love.”

“That man should be flogged. You’re turning out to be a wonderful young man, Xander, and he doesn’t deserve such a good son. Don’t worry about him.” Joyce gave him a few more pats on the knee before she leaned back.

“I’m not,” Xander admitted. “I mean, after three therapists telling me that my dad’s issues are his and not mine, I think I finally understand that he just needs to live his own life.”

“Well that sounds very mature. So, you’re not having a hard time with your family?”

“Not so much.”

“Then… Xander, Buffy has been extremely worried about you.”

“Yeah, well that might be because Angel lost his soul for a little bit, and Angel without a soul is not like Spike without a soul.” Xander thought about that for a second. Actually, when Spike first showed up in Sunnydale, all threats and worried about Drusilla and grabbing Xander on the street and nearly giving him a heart attack, Spike without the soul really had been a lot like Angelus. Spike had mellowed. Angelus, not so much.

“Xander?” Joyce prompted him.

He shrugged. “Angel without a soul is more of the hunting tiger than the laid back lazy lion Spike can be. I mean, if you keep Spike entertained, I’m not sure he wants to bother killing people. Not unless he’s hungry.” Or trying to impress someone, but Xander left that one off. Discussions of Spike’s need to impress others led to orphanages and nuns and railroad spikes, but Joyce really didn’t need to hear any of that.

“Angel was more dangerous then? Did he hurt someone?” Joyce leaned forward, her expression caught somewhere between worried and furious.

“Lots of someones, but mostly the someones involved were demons who didn’t give him the respect he thought he deserved. That and the demons that had the money he wanted or the demons that owned books he coveted or the demons that got in his path. I mean, he ate people too, but I’m not sure he actually went out of his way to hunt anyone. He just ate whoever was there. But the demon community… oh, they will not be forgetting this visit from the soulless one for a very, very long time.” Xander made a face. He should feel good about the number of demons and vamps and other random baddies who’d died in the last few weeks, but he really wasn’t.

“So he was more of a tiger compared to Spike’s lion,” Joyce summarized for him. “And where were you through all this?”

Xander sighed. Seriously, he’d just wanted to catch up with Joyce, to sit and drink hot cocoa and remember when she’d been more of a mother to him than his own. He wanted to remember who he’d been when he’d been sixteen and hanging out in this same living room, back before things got so complicated. Now he was just dragging the complicated into her living room. He officially sucked.

“Mostly, running. There at the end, though, I guess I realized that I’d rather be with Angelus than running from him.”

Joyce leaned back and gave Xander a long, worried look. “Even though he’s a tiger?”

And that was pretty much the center of the problem. Xander knew how dark Angelus’ moods were. He knew how much Angelus loved him the way you might love a favorite stuffed toy. And now Angelus got equal control over the body with Angel. Last night, during the sex, Xander could feel the difference… even before he got Angel to explain things, he knew that Angelus was much more present than before the whole soul-ripping thing Jenny had done.

“That’s big with the psychologically unhealthy, huh?”

“I don’t know. Did he hurt you?”

“Physically… nope,” Xander answered easily.

“Emotionally?”

Xander wondered why he’d come here. Joyce was very mothering, and these were definitely mother type questions, but they weren’t questions Xander wanted to answer. He wasn’t sure they were things he could answer.

“Xander?” Joyce’s voice was soft.

“I’m dealing with it.”

“With what?”

Xander picked at the hem of his shirt. “Have you ever loved someone, but you were pretty sure their love for you didn’t include a whole lot of respect?”

“Ah.” Joyce moved closer. “That would be my ex-husband. If I couldn’t make money, then my work wasn’t important. I shouldn’t want my own life; I should stay home and make it easier for him to go out and make more and more money by fixing fancy dinners for his business clients. And if I couldn’t even manage to do that, he wasn’t sure exactly what use I was. He might have loved me.” She paused. “I know he loved me. He just didn’t have two cents’ worth of respect for me.”

“It sounds like you married Angelus,” Xander said. It really did except instead of money, for Angelus it was about killing.

For heavy seconds, silence fell on the room. “I divorced Hank,” Joyce said softly.

“Not really an option for me,” Xander said.

“Is he forcing you to stay?” Joyce’s voice grew suddenly sharp, and Xander could tell she was ready to pick up a stake and go confront Angel herself, if she had to. And the truth was that if he tried to leave, Angel probably would come after him. Actually, after Anyaka’s cryptic comment about Angel not being able to leave and the mess when Angel came up to Sunnydale without him, Xander figured he was magically screwed if he wanted a divorce. Royally, magically screwed. But that wasn’t really an issue because he didn’t want a divorce.

“No. I mean, if this were about trying to get away, that’d be easy. But I love him, which complicates things.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s healthy to stay with him.”

“And if it were just Angelus, I would be right there with a ‘woo hoo’ for that. But the soul is back.”

“So, he’s Angel again?” Now Joyce looked confused. That was fair since Xander’s feelings were pretty damn mixed up.

“He’s sort of a mixed up version of both. The first curse gave the soul all the power, but this new curse… it’s a little more about power-sharing.” Xander shrugged. He didn’t have answers… just lots and lots of questions.

“And who’s in charge?”

“They have to agree or the body gets sort of stuck.”

“That sounds… well, painful,” Joyce said, her mouth twisting into a grimace.

“So far, pretty much,” Xander agreed. “I mean, they’re both on board with killing the hell-god roaming Sunnydale—”

“The what?!” Joyce’s back went stiff.

“The hell-god,” Xander said slowly, suddenly not sure that he should have said anything. Crap. Obviously Joyce was not totally in the know. “Not that it’s a big deal. She’s a really small hell-god, from what I hear.” Xander held up two fingers to show how small, but Joyce’s eyes just narrowed more. “Not that I’ve seen her. Because I haven’t. Non-fighters are definitely sidelined for—” Xander stopped and bit his tongue. He was officially an idiot. If Joyce was just out of the hospital, Buffy might have good reason for keeping her loop-minimal.

“A hell-god. Buffy is fighting a hell god?”

“A small one,” Xander said with a cringe. “And hey, she asked for help, so she’s got the army and Spike and Angel. And personally, I would bet on Spike and Angel winning because those two are kinda scary when they’re on the same side, and can I just say how very happy I am that it’s our side?”

“She’s fighting a hell-god.” Joyce seemed to be gritting her teeth, and her pale skin was pinking up nicely. Oh yeah, Xander had definitely poked the hornet’s nest this time. He’d be avoiding Buffy for the next decade or two.

“Can I be honest here?”

Joyce’s anger seemed to vanish like a popped balloon. “Of course you can,” Joyce assured him. “I have always respected your honesty. Even when you were lying about Angel being a vampire, and your boyfriend, you always told the truth about him being important to you. You’re an honest person.”

Xander frowned as he thought back. The only time Joyce had met Angel was the party that turned out to be lime-Jello hell. “Actually, back then we weren’t boyfriends. He was trying to figure out if he was my friend or my father or something weirdly stalkerish but in a caring way, and I was chasing girls.”

“Oh.” Joyce frowned. “Really?”

“Yep. We had this whole drama in LA when he figured out I liked guys. He thought that liking guys might be some sort of soul-killing sin and he tried really hard to get me to give up the being gay.”

For a second, Joyce blinked, her mouth half-open. “But, if you two are together, doesn’t that mean he’s—”

“Totally and completely gay,” Xander agreed. “Only he’s dated girls too, so maybe mostly gay. However, he was doing this weird thing where it was okay for him to go to hell, but I was supposed to be perfect or something.”

“Oh.” Now Joyce was back to looking confused, but that was better than having her furious. “Okay, so what did you want to be honest about?”

“You’re looking a little….” Xander let his voice trail off. He wasn’t sure how to say it politely.

“Run down?” Joyce guessed.

“Like a truck hit you, backed up, and then hit you three more times,” Xander agreed. “I’m guessing Buffy didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you worrying, only now I’ve gone and told you, so please don’t worry or Buffy is going to kill me.”

Joyce looked at him a little the way Spike looked at him after Xander had said something particularly stupid. It was a sort of exasperation mixed with fondness. “I always worry, Xander. My daughter is the chosen one who is supposed to stand up against the forces of evil. I think I inherited a right to worry when she became the slayer.”

“Yeah, and it probably doesn’t help that Dawn is hitting those fun, fun teenage years, huh?”

Joyce got an odd expression on her face, and Xander frowned. “Joyce?”

“It’s nothing,” she said with a wave of her hand before she pressed the fingers to her forehead. “Just a headache. The doctors said I’m going to have them for a while.”

“Maybe you should see another doctor, someone who could do something to make you feel better.”

“I’ve been to three doctors, including one at Riley’s base. They all agree that the brain is traumatized by the tumor and I need time to heal.”

Xander bit his lip. Doctors knew way more than he did, but he didn’t like the color of Joyce’s skin. He really didn’t like that she didn’t seem to have enough energy to keep being mad at Buffy because from what Xander remembered, Joyce Summers had all sorts of energy for that.

“Xander, are you okay?” Joyce asked, completely startling Xander. He was supposed to be worrying about her, not the other way around.

“Yeah. I mean, the stuff with the demon getting equal control is a little freaky because I have Angelus-issues, but the fact is that I love both Angel and Angelus, and we’ll work this out. Angelus doesn’t get to emotionally rip me to little pieces any more. Not that he ever meant to. That’s the thing about Angelus, he actually wants family and respect, which are two good things, but his idea of how to get them is a little on the wacky side.”

“Xander, I meant physically. Are you okay?” Joyce reached over and grabbed Xander’s arm, and Xander realized he’d been jerking it back and forth like he was trying to carve a really tough Thanksgiving turkey. Xander stared down at his arm in confusion.

“Um, maybe,” he said. “I… that’s not normal.”

“No, it’s not,” Joyce agreed. She took her hand away, and Xander did one more jerk before he consciously forced his limb to stay still. “Maybe I should call a doctor.” She didn’t sound too sure about that.

Standing up, Xander moved to the middle of the room. “Yeah, I’ve been having some weirdness go on, and I’m not sure it’s the kind of weirdness a doctor deals with.”

“Weirdness?” Joyce stood up and moved to his side, but Xander flinched away. “Xander?”

Xander shook his head. Now that he was paying attention to his own body instead of Joyce, he could feel the tension building steadily. Something was wrong.

“Xander, tell me who I should call,” Joyce urged him. Xander headed for the bottom of the stairs and gripped the railing as a wave of fury rolled through him. “Xander?”

Gritting his teeth, Xander fought down an urge to scream at Joyce, to hit her. Hitting Joyce was on the ‘no’ list. Forever on the ‘no’ list. And yet, he could feel the sweat gather along his spine as his body fought him to do just that.

“I’m calling Buffy,” Joyce said, and Xander didn’t argue. She turned toward the phone, and Xander turned around and eyed the door. Something was out there. Something big.

“Stay in the house,” Xander growled. Just as Joyce started to turn, Xander raced for the door, threw it open and ran out into the darkness.

“Xander!” Joyce screamed from behind him, but Xander ran. North. Always north. Something was north of him, and he wanted to rip and shred and tear it limb from limb.


	61. 61

A figure ran behind him, and Xander snarled at the intruder.

“Hey, mister, I’m trying to help. You have to go back to the mansion,” Harmony complained. She had a cellphone in her hand, and she tripped as she tried to run at his side and dial at the same time. Xander ignored her. She wasn’t important.

“Spike! Spike, Xander is running, and Angel’s not answering his phone.”

There was a pause, and Xander leaped to the top of a low brick wall and paused for a second, listening to the night. Power. He could feel power running under his skin. Power from the land, rising like a mist, and power from the north.

“I know that!” Harmony complained with a whine. “But he’s really fast.”

She stopped at the bottom of the wall. “Come down here right now, mister. Spike’s pissed at you, and he wants to talk to you.”

Xander growled at Harmony, enjoying the little squeak she gave before he leaped down on the far side of the cemetery wall and starting running down the rows of gravestones lined up like soldiers.

“Xander!” Harmony yelled. He could tell from the grunting and scraping sounds that she was following, but he didn’t care. North. He had to get north.

“I’m trying!” Harmony cried out.

“Well, he’s not acting human!”

“That’s what I told him!”

Xander ignored Harmony’s one-sided conversation, all his attention focused forward. A vampire lurked behind a mausoleum crypt, and Xander took a second to snarl at the intruder. The vampire had a few years on him, but he just stared with wide eyes, not even trying to stop Xander.

“North, through Restful Days cemetery. Spike, he’s growling at strange vampires.”

“I did not!” she protested loudly after another pause. A hand brushed over Xander’s arm, and he threw it up to dislodge the alien touch. He wouldn’t be stopped. “Xander!” Harmony yelled in the sort of voice she might use if he wore stripes with a Hawaiian shirt.

“Spike, he isn’t listening.” That was a whine.

Now Xander could hear Spike’s voice through the tinny speaker in the microphone. “You bloody stop him or I’ll turn you into a pile of soddin’ dust.”

“I’m trying! He’s really fast.”

“You’re a bloody vampire. You’re faster. Now I don’t care if you have to sit on him, stop him!”

Harmony’s hands clawed at him, and Xander whirled around, snarling before he landed a punch in the middle of Harmony’s face. Her body flew back, hair going everywhere, and Xander had one brief flare of guilt before he turned and started heading north again.

“Bloody hell, was that him?” he heard through the phone, but then Xander started running, the sound of his heart drowning out everything else as he ran and ran. Power… he could taste it like a sour grape on his tongue, cold and slimy and bitter enough to make his lips curl back in disgust.

Xander heard the fight before he could see it, the heavy thump of flesh against flesh, the grunts of pain and the sharp cracks as things broke.

“Hey, that was my dress!” a loud voice complained. A familiar growl answered her. Xander came over the hill and found Angel, on one knee with a hand braced against the earth. A woman… a monster… in a red dress with a torn hem stood several feet in front of him, and all around were the broken bits that used to be a playground. The teeter totter lay in three long pieces, the merry-go-round had been knocked off its center, and four of the five swings were a tangle of chains lying on the ground.

Xander snarled as he saw the enemy, and he threw himself forward. There was a flicker of something in Angel, and his concentration slipped. The woman chose that moment to throw herself forward, her hand coming around in a swiping motion like some old Hollywood movie star. In other circumstances it would be comical gesture. It was a ridiculous open-handed woman-slap. What wasn't funny was that Angel flew six or seven feet to the side before crumpling to the dust. She might not have good fighting form, but she had power behind her hits.

Before his conscious mind could even point out the fact that anything that could take Angel down could take him down, Xander found his hands closing around her neck. The woman gazed at him with a sort of dismissive annoyance. Almost casually, she backhanded him. Xander could feel the force of her blow as his head snapped back. His left hand completely lost its grip, but with his right hand, he caught her hair even as his body flopped to the side. Closing his fist as tightly as he could, he pulled her down into the dust with him.

“How dare you,” she hissed. Shoving at him, she easily stood up again. However, Angel had time to recover. Xander watched as Angel tackled her from behind. Her arms flew out to the side as she landed face first on the ground, and for a second, it looked like Angel had really hurt her.

Angel stood up, a low growl still rumbling from his chest, and she lay on the ground with her arms flopped out to the sides. She looked like Harmony two seconds after Harmony had bothered Spike one too many times.

Then she sighed. Loudly. “Okay, people, this is not acceptable. I want my key.” Turning over slowly, she pulled her feet under her and brushed at her dress in annoyance. “Who has my key?” She demanded in the tone of voice that Cordelia had once used when looking for her cheerleaders after they had run off. The voice was equal parts annoyed and homicidal.

The woman climbed to her feet and glared first at Angel and then Xander. Xander could feel the growl rise in his own chest. She was enemy. She was power. He wanted to rip her to shreds and leave her bloody body in pieces scattered across the ground.

For the first time, she seemed to really look at them. “Well this is interesting. You’re new. Do you have my key?” When neither of them answered, she rolled her eyes. “Why do I even bother asking?” she said wearily. She started advancing slowly toward Angel, her hands reaching out for him. Something was wrong. She was going to do something, and Xander knew that in the pit of his stomach. Angel did too, because he started backing away, his hands coming up in a defensive posture.

“I dunna have your key, but if it's a key your wanting, I can find you plenty.” Xander knew that tone of voice. That was the tone of voice that Angelus had used to try and negotiate with Anyakana, which hadn't actually worked out all that well.

“I don't need plenty. I need one,” she said. She stopped, and for a half-second, Xander thought she was going to stamp her foot like a five-year old. “I need my key. I'm going to find where those monks put my key.” She reached out for Angel, but he jerked himself back out of range. Still not understanding exactly what this woman was trying to do, Xander picked up one of the long boards from the teeter totter. Angel spotted him and gave a small nod, and Xander slung the board as hard as he could. It was a huge chunk of wood, and it seemed to fly in slow motion straight toward Glory's head.

It hit with a dull thunking sound, and she stumbled forward. For a second, all of them froze. However, she didn't fall to the ground. With infinitely slow movement, she reached up and ran her fingers though her hair to straighten it out. Whatever she was, she wasn't human. Of course, being that she was a god that was kind of implied.

“Now you're just annoying me,” she said as she looked over at Xander. Hitting her in the head with a hundred pounds of solid wood had annoyed it. It was a little emasculating.

“That's funny I thought you were already annoyed,” Xander answered.

She narrowed her eyes, and now she started advancing toward Xander. Xander scrambled backwards. He might feel a murderous fury in his heart, but he had even more stark cold terror in there. She could kill him. He knew that for a fact.

“You best be leaving him alone,” Angel warned darkly, and that voice was all Angelus. Picking up one of the chains from a fallen swing, he started twirling it. The chain whistled as it spun through the air, and Glory stopped. Turning slightly, she angled her body so that she could look over Angel.

“Are you challenging me?”

Angelus smirked. That was a dangerous expression coming from him. Slowly, he looked her up and down, still swinging the chain. “Yes.” With that, he swung the chain at her. It caught her around the neck, and the momentum swung chain around until it wrapped around her. She gave a startled squeak, the sort that Harmony might, and then Angel jerked the chain. She flew forward, her feet leaving the ground.

Xander opened his mouth to call out a warning as her hand came up in a fist. However, before she could land the blow, Angelus had already darted around the other side of a tree. He jerked the chain again, and now Xander could see his plan. He was hoping to chain her to the tree. Xander ran and grabbed one of the other chains; however, before he could join the fight, Glory planted her heels in the ground and jerked back. The chain snapped, and broken links flew off. He could hear several of them making tinking noises as they hit the metal playground equipment.

“Now I'm really upset,” Glory complained as she ripped the chain off of her neck. She tried brushing her dress off, but it was stained and dirty and torn. Slowly, she looked up at them – first Angel and then Xander. Oh yeah, she planned to turn them into little bloody splotches on the ground. Bigger and scarier things than her head tried, though. Xander dropped into a crouch and glanced at Angel to see if he had a plan.

“Bloody hell, I can't let you to go anywhere, can I?” Spike bolted out of a car that had just pulled up to the curb, leaving the door open behind him.

“William,” Angel said with the sort of enthusiasm that suggested that the demon was getting to come out and play.

Spike broke stride for a split second, but he recovered quick enough. “Angel,” he offered. Most of the time, Spike was more likely to use “Peaches” or “Ducks” or even “Luv” when he talked to Angel, so Xander was guessing Spike knew he was dealing with the demon.

“So, is anyone invited to this fight?”

Xander had been so distracted by Spike that he hadn’t noticed Buffy and Riley getting out of the car. Riley had a big old gun in hand, and Buffy was twirling her favorite stake.

“You,” Glory said, and from the tone, she’d had more than one run-in with Buffy. Buffy usually left demons feeling a little cranky.

“Yep, me. I did warn you that if you didn’t get out of town I was going to slay you. I warned her, right?” Buffy said, turning to Riley for confirmation.

“You did,” Riley agreed, the perfect straight man for her act.

“I knew it,” Buffy said. “I mean, with all the college papers, sometimes I forget things, but I was almost certain that I had offered to kick your scrawny ass.”

Glory just gave a sniff. She might have had something nasty and witty to say, but Angel picked up the board that Xander had thrown earlier, and swung it like a bat. It caught Glory on the back and threw her forward. That probably wasn’t enough to hurt her, but Spike leaped in, meeting her face with his boot. Glory’s head snapped around, but before Spike could retreat, she’d punched him in the face. With a snarl he tumbled back and Buffy leaped in, trading kicks.

For a time, Spike and Buffy traded off the close-fighting with Angel landing some heavy hits when he saw an opening and Riley unloading two clips, and there must have been at least fifteen or twenty shots in each clip. However, despite all the firepower, Glory’s dress seemed more rumpled than she did. Xander moved in closer. He could see Buffy starting to tire, and Angel looked like he’d taken a lot of hits before the rest of them had even shown up. He was favoring one side, and he kept his right arm pulled in close, so Xander was guessing it was a big ‘no’ on him wearing the Gem of Amara. Idiot. Even Spike was starting to look a little frayed around the edges. Glory had caught his coat at one point, which had forced Spike to shrug out of it before she could pin him down. And yet, despite the fact that three of the strongest people on earth were pounding on her, she kept getting back up. She was definitely getting back up faster than the rest of them. Sheer stubbornness seemed to be the only thing keeping Spike in the fight. In fact, he’d gotten tossed into the remains of the merry-go-round, and he cursed as he struggled to get himself untangled from the twisted and broken bits.

Then Glory backhanded Buffy so hard that Buffy flew a good twenty feet backwards and Riley was still working to get a new clip in his gun. Seeing that no one else was in position to cover Riley, Xander lunged at Glory.

“M'fhear,” Angel bellowed in a very cranky voice.

Xander went for an ungraceful full-body tackle, but he did manage to take Glory to the ground before he rolled away. He was on his knees when something that felt like a jackhammer caught him in the stomach, and he flew backward. His body struggled for every breath. He felt hands grabbing at him, and Xander flailed for the two seconds it took him to realize that Angel was grabbing him, dragging him away from the fight while Spike rained Glory with a series of blindingly fast strikes. That lasted seconds before Glory backhanded Spike so hard that his whole body seemed to come unjointed as it flew in a jumble of limbs across the field. However, this time, Angel roared and charged straight at her. She met him with a fist, but that didn’t do more than take Angel to one knee before he started trading blows with her.

At one point, she got Angel down on the ground, and Xander moved closer, only to have a badly beaten Spike grab him by one arm. However, Riley stepped up and put a good twenty bullets right into Glory’s head. It didn’t stop her, but it sure made her cranky, and by the time she’d finished glaring at Riley, Angel was up again and Buffy had rejoined the fight. Both Angel and Buffy traded punches with her until Glory finally seemed to slow.

Just when Xander expected Angel to go in for the kill, Angel turned, his eyes searching for Xander. When he found Xander, he moved unsteadily closer. Xander shrugged Spike’s hands off and ran to Angel. Bones stuck out at odd angles in his right arm and he was limping so badly that when Xander reached him, Angel actually leaned his weight into Xander as if he couldn’t hold himself up one more second. “M’fhear,” Angel whispered. Xander could hear the pain and the fear and the exhaustion and the love all poured into that word.

“Angel.” Wrapping his arms around Angel’s waist, Xander held on tightly. As soon as Xander stopped shaking in fear, he was going to take the Gem of Amara and superglue it to Angel’s fucking finger.

“Bloody hell,” Spike breathed as the sounds of the fight stilled. Xander looked around Angel to see Buffy and Riley standing over a very human looking guy with feathered hair that had definitely come out of another decade.

“Ben?” Buffy asked softly.

“I… She’s too powerful. I can’t stop her.” The man on the ground sounded utterly anguished, and Xander looked around for Glory, but they were definitely one hellgod short of a hellgod.

“What…?” Xander didn’t get to finish.

“We found the bloody avatar, and it’s not Dawn,” Spike said. “Right then, kill him and be done with it,” Spike shouted at Buffy and Riley. Xander wasn’t all that surprised when both looked over at Spike without doing any killing. Spike was never going to understand the concept of moral dilemmas, that’s for sure.

“We don’t kill humans,” Buffy complained, and then she actually turned her back on Ben and started walking toward them. “Besides, we’re supposed to be chasing down Glory.”

Xander frowned and looked from Angel to Spike, but both vampires looked just as confused as he was. Riley actually held out a hand and helped this Ben up from the ground before he holstered his weapon and turned his back on him. Xander’s mouth fell open. However, Ben seemed to take it all in stride as he turned and ran toward the hill.

“He…. She…. But…. He…. Buffy!” Xander spluttered.

“What?” Buffy demanded. “Okay that was strange. Did anyone else think that was strange?”

“You letting the bad guy walk away, yeah, that’s much with the strange,” Xander complained.

Spike was even more upset as he glared at Riley. “You bloody tosser. I can't soddin’ believe you let him go. This is not a fucking Sunday School people.”

“What? Who?” Riley asked, clearly confused.

Xander opened his mouth, but this was too Twilight Zone, even for him.

“You will track that man down right now,” Angel just about growled. Xander wrapped his fingers around Angel's arm. He wasn't sure he wanted Angel tracking the guy down, not when Angel was this beat up.

“And do what?” Buffy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Kill him,” Spike snapped when Angel didn’t answer. Actually, Angel was pretty much frozen. Xander could feel Angel's body stiffen, the muscles go hard as the soul and the demon locked each other inside so they could privately rage at each other about who owned the body. Since Xander was having some not-good feelings about the idea of killing the human who’d been stuck playing avatar for Glorificus, he could imagine Angel and Angelus weren’t exactly agreeing on how to handle this.

“Kill who?” Riley asked, and there was the Twilight Zone.

“Ben,” Spike snapped.

“Why would we kill Ben?” Buffy looked honestly confused.

Spike looked from Buffy to Riley for a second before turning to look at Xander.

Xander shifted so that he kept one arm around Angel and support his weight. “Hey, I’m morally questionable on the killing of Ben front, but I’m all in favor of tracking him down before Glory comes back,” Xander agreed.

“Glory? What does Ben have to do with Glory?” Buffy asked as she got that odd little wrinkle between her eyes. “Sometimes you don’t make all that much sense, Xander.”

“He’s probably just upset about Angel. Actually, both of you look worse for the wear,” Riley said with some sympathy as he looked from Spike to Angel. Xander could have told him that sympathy was not the right approach. Both vampires growled.

“Make that three of us. My hurts hurt,” Buffy complained softly. Riley slipped an arm around her and started urging her toward the car. “Xander, are you okay? I mean, she actually hit you.”

“I’m not exactly breakable,” Xander complained. This is why he’d left Sunnydale. It was like Buffy and Willow expected him to always be a fifteen year old boy bumbling through life. He could fight. True, he couldn’t fight as well as Angel and Spike, but that pretty much described 99.9% of the world. “Are we going to talk about the fact that Glory is living inside this Ben guy?”

Riley and Buffy both stopped and looked at him funny. “Ben from the hospital?” Buffy asked.

Angel growled softly and Spike muttered darkly as he went to grab his coat off the ground.

“Um, yeah… if that’s the Ben that just came popping out when you guys beat the snot out of Glory.”

“Ben is Glory?” Buffy looked honestly shocked. Spike might even call the expression gobsmacked.

It took Xander’s brain a second to translate the odd Twilight Zone conversation. “Yes. Now can we chase Ben down?”

The shock faded from Buffy’s face, only to be replaced with confusion. “Why?”

Xander might have kept going but Spike interrupted. “Don’t bother, pet. Someone’s mojo’ed her.”

“Who? Me? I am not mojoed. And that would be magically screwed with for those who aren’t used to Spike’s bad English,” Buffy translated for Riley as they headed for the car again.

“Oi, at least I know a noun from a bloody adjective, ya brainless….”

“Spike,” Angel said wearily. Spike went back to that under-his-breath muttering.

“Wait, they really don’t remember?” Xander asked softly.

Angel looked up at Buffy and Riley. They were still close, but neither of them seemed to be interested in the hill where Ben had run for his life. “They don’t,” Angel said wearily.

“We should have expected the bloody mojo,” Spike said wearily.

Riley glanced over his shoulder. “Does Glory have some sort of magical power you guys know about?”

“No fair keeping the good intel to yourself,” Buffy added.

“She… um….” Xander looked at Spike and Angel. Spike was already striding toward the hill, or maybe that was more of a plodding. He was definitely having some trouble walking. “She can disguise herself, stop people from remembering having seen her or her avatar,” Xander explained. Buffy and Riley had stopped their slow retreat to the car and both were looking at him with the sort of weary resignation he remembered from his research days in the library. That was the face you made when you figured out you were trying to kill something really big and hugely nasty as opposed to normal sized big and moderately nasty.

“That makes sense,” Riley finally agreed with a sigh. Xander bit his tongue before he blurted out the rest. Clearly if he told them that Ben was Glory, they were going to go all weirdly amnesiac on him again.

“Okay, I am so tired of that woman getting all the good powers,” Buffy said as she rubbed her neck. “Can I hit her really, really hard?”

“I think you just did, and she got away,” Riley said sympathetically.

“Hey, I'm just happy that it turned out that Glory's other half wasn't Dawn. That would've been big with the bad,” Xander added with a sort of fake enthusiasm. Right now, he was feeling anything but enthusiastic about this particular big bad.

“Dawn? Buffy pressed her lips into a thin line and pinned a Xander with a stare that might've killed a lesser man. However, Xander had been glared at by a lot of people, including Angel and Angelus and Spike and Cordelia. He was actually kind of getting used to it. “You thought Glory was Dawn?!” Buffy was passing furious and going straight into homicidal.

“Did I say that? I did not say that,” Xander hurried to defend himself. Angel had gone perfectly still and Spike turned around so he could watch from his spot on the hill. Buffy, however, was focused all on Xander, and that was not her happy face. “I implied it,” he admitted, “but I'm hoping we can sweep that under the rug for now.”

“And when were you planning on telling me this?”

“Pretty much never. I mean, she isn’t Glory, so, yeah, never.”

“Bloody hell, we don't work for you slayer.” Spike started limping back down the hill. “We take care of our own.”

Buffy advanced toward Spike, her finger jabbing in his direction as she left Riley’s side. “Understand this-- if by taking care of your own you plan to lay one finger on my sister, I'll turn you into a pile of dust.”

Just about the time it occurred to Xander that Buffy was definitely not joking, Angel came to life. He stepped up so that he was inches from Buffy’s face, and she fell back a step with a quick gasp. “You’ll na have the chance,” he snapped.

“Hey, I have an idea. Let's all play nice!” Xander said as he hurried to get between the two of them. Buffy had her arms bent as if ready for battle, and Riley inched closer, his hand resting on the butt of his weapon. “We're all friends here. We're friends that sometimes don't like each other, but that's kind of the way friendship goes sometimes,” Xander pointed out. “Buffy and Willow definitely didn't like me when I decided to call Giles a backstabbing two-faced librarian man, but we were still friends. And hey, we don't like her when she goes poking her finger in people's faces when she shouldn't. But we still like her in the general sense of we aren’t going to fight with her.” Xander talked as fast as he could. If Angel really decided to go for Buffy, Xander was not entirely sure how that was going to turn out, but he was pretty sure that Buffy wasn't going to win. They might both lose, but Buffy definitely wasn't going to win.

For a second, Xander was standing there with Angelus, all offense and power and homicidal urges. But then the body language shifted, the shoulders dropped and the hard lines of muscle relaxed somewhat and Angel was there in Angelus’ place.

“Buffy, don’t threaten family, not when I’m this angry and this injured,” Angel said softly. “It might not be the right choice or even a rational choice, but if you say the wrong thing when I’m this hurt and this in need of blood, we both might regret what happens.” Angel’s voice was soft, almost conciliatory, but Xander noticed that Angel wasn’t offering to back down or apologize.

“All of us are on edge,” Riley said as he brought a hand up to rest on Buffy’s shoulder. “Buffy is pretty injured, too, so I think we’re all a little irrational right now.”

Buffy had a stubborn expression on her face, but she didn’t say anything.

“I can give Wesley the location of a suckhouse, or we can request a blood supply from the base,” Riley offered. Xander had to admit that Riley had learned about dealing with offended vampires.

“We take care of our own, mate,” Spike said before Xander could ask for both.

With a nod, Riley accepted that and then he gave a small tug on Buffy’s arm. For a second, Buffy just stared at Angel and Xander, that worry line back on her face.

“Xander, I know you’re all superjuiced from the whole consort deal, but she hit you pretty hard. Have Wesley check that out, okay?” Buffy asked. The hard edge was gone from her voice, and Xander could almost feel the apology.

“Sure, Buff,” he agreed, ignoring the whole consort thing since he didn’t want to reopen that fight. She nodded and then she let Riley pull her back toward the car.


	62. 62

“So, this Ben is the avatar?” Wesley brought the cup from the microwave over to Angel, but Angel gestured toward Spike.

“Seems like,” Spike agreed. He gave Angel an odd look, but he took the mug anyway. Xander had to agree that Angel was being unAngellike. He had pulled Xander so close that Xander had been forced to sit in Angel’s lap or end up on the floor. Wanting Xander on the floor sounded a lot like Angelus, but if Angelus had come out to play, that didn’t explain why Angel was nuzzling Xander’s neck. Not biting, just nuzzling. Nuzzling was more of an Angel thing, even if Angel never had been one for public displays of affection. Xander might have objected, but he was so tired that moving would require too much energy.

“So, do we attack the avatar or try and break the connection, force Glorificus out into the open?” Wesley asked as he prepared another mug of blood. While that was heating, he grabbed fried chicken out of the refrigerator and put it on the table in front of Xander and Angel.

“Thank you,” Xander said as he grabbed for a leg. He was starving.

“You’re quite welcome.”

Spike finished his blood and put the mug on the table. “Where’s Harmony?”

“She thought that absence was the better part of valor after her failure to stop Xander from his headlong rush into battle.” The microwave dinged and Wesley headed over to retrieve the blood. “But she did ensure we were well stocked before she disappeared.”

Spike snorted.

Xander decided to distract Spike before he decided to go hunt Harmony down. He owed her… he owed her even more after punching her in the face. He’d never hit a girl before. Okay, so Harmony wasn’t technically a girl, but she was close enough. “So, can we split Glory from this Ben person?”

“Who?” Wesley asked as he tried to offer Angel the second mug of blood. This time Angel didn’t even look up from Xander’s neck. Spike reached over to retrieve the second mug.

“Ben,” Xander said, and his frustration made Angel give a little growl. Wesley’s eyes went big, but he still had that blank look. This magic spell was going to get old really fast.

“Give it up, pet. That spell is going to hold until we can find someone ta take it off,” Spike said wearily.

“Spell, what spell?” Wesley took Spike’s empty mug and retreated to the sink.

“This is going to make conversations a little annoying,” Xander pointed out. Wesley was the only one who understood magic, so if they couldn’t talk to him about magic, they were pretty much screwed. Angel just got a constipated look on his face when someone mentioned magic, and Xander wouldn’t trust himself or Spike anywhere near anything magical. There was stupid and then there was flat-out suicidal.

“Would someone like to explain the situation to me so I can share in the annoyance?” Wesley asked, and he sounded pretty damn frustrated already.

“Theoretically,” Spike said slowly, “it seems like Glory has her avatar hidden by some sort of spell that keeps people from remembering the identity of the human, even when they see her change or get told the truth straight out.”

“Oh dear.” Wesley leaned against the counter. “I take it that this is not as much theoretical as a way to avoid having the spell erase my memories again?”

“Maybe,” Spike admitted.

Xander sat up straight, and Angel made an unhappy little grumble before pulling him closer.

“Pet?” Spike asked.

Xander sighed. “First, the Angel weirdness is getting a little too weird, but putting that on the back burner, I have an even bigger problem. Why do I remember that Glory is Ben?”

“Ben? Ben who?” Wesley asked.

“None of your bloody business,” Spike snapped, most of his attention still on Xander. “And I can’t say I know, pet.”

“I’m still human, right?” Xander asked. After two rounds of growling and having fantasies of pulling people apart with his hands, Xander was starting to have a doubt or two.

“You still smell human enough,” Spike said, which wasn’t exactly a rousing endorsement.

“Yer human,” Angel added. He started with little kisses down the side of Xander’s neck, and Xander’s cock did very embarrassing things in his pants. Xander was just happy that none of the girls were around. Faith would tease him, and Harmony would probably ask to join in about two seconds before someone backhanded her into a wall. They weren’t exactly the poster children for function family life or domestic non-violence.

“Angel, think about this,” Xander said, shifting as his cock grew harder. He was a little large to fit into a lap comfortably, and with his growing problem, it was getting uncomfortable. “No human can remember the name of Glory’s human half because of a spell. I’m totally okay at remembering the whole thing. Therefore that implies I have some non-human bits going on. And actually, that’s freaking me out a whole lot less that it might have five years ago, but I’m still wondering what the hell is going on.”

“I would think the answer to that was obvious,” Wesley said in that superior tone Xander had always resented when Wesley or Giles used it.

“Obvious? Spit it out, then,” Spike warned, and Xander suddenly remembered how much Spike had hated Wesley back then. Completely hated Wesley. Homicidally, even, and Spike didn’t have a friendly look on his face right now. Wesley went a little green around the gills, but he straightened up and kept his gaze on Spike.

“As a consort, Xander is not entirely human.”

“Oh bloody hell,” Spike complained loudly, “not this rot again.”

Angel finally gave up Xander’s neck long enough to frown at Wesley. “Consorts are a myth, a legend made up by a vampire to bed some woman,” Angel said.

“And trick a whole lot of Watchers. Do you lot believe everything you read?” Spike demanded. “Bloody idiots.”

Wesley stiffened, but he didn’t drop his gaze. “The evidence—”

“Doesn’t exist,” Spike cut him off.

“Perhaps not before Xander,” Wesley said, and his gaze flicked back toward Angel as if looking for permission to keep going.

“Wait, are you saying that…. Actually, I don’t know what you’re saying,” Xander interrupted himself in the middle when he realized that he didn’t know what Wesley was even getting at. Angel and Spike had both agreed that consorts were myths. A vampire got its power from a demon, and the demon couldn’t take over without a person dying, so vampire powers were pretty much limited to vampires. After many long conversations back in Sunnydale, Xander had made two definite conclusions. First, Giles was pretty much an idiot when it came to anything the Watchers wrote down. If some guy in the fifth century had written that a Watcher had to wear purple feathers and jump up and down on one leg every seventh full moon, Giles would be out there, feathers and all. True, he’d do it because he loved Buffy, so that made it kinda admirable, but he was still an idiot. Second, vampires really were manipulative bastards. After living with Spike and Angel for so long, Xander knew first hand that both his vampires could be a little on the overbearing and devious side; however, the vampire who’d made up the consort myth just to get in some witch’s bed had definitely won the slime of the century award. Maybe he was just too tired to get his brain to put all the pieces together. It wasn’t like is brain was all that good at connecting random bits under the best of circumstances—at least not with stuff like this.

“I am suggesting,” Wesley said with a sort of false calm and a sideways glance at Spike, “that you are showing every classical sign of being a consort. You are psychically linked to your master, you know when he is in trouble, you have speed and strength greater than a human. While I would not recommend you go up against any demons, Harmony said that you hit much harder than a human would.”

“You’re talking about Harmony,” Xander pointed out. “I’m pretty sure my Grandmother Lavelle could take her down, and my grandmother is not the forever young and strong sort of old. She’s just old.”

“Be that as it may, you have shown some new characteristics since the soul returned.”

Spike’s scowl had turned into something more thoughtful, and that was freaking Xander out more than the cranky-face from before. Angry Spike was normal; thoughtful Spike was terrifying.

“You think I’m a consort? When consorts don’t actually exist? Why not just call me a unicorn or something more interesting?” Xander tried joking.

“Angel’s wounds are healing despite the fact that he hasn’t taken blood. You are eating huge amounts of food. Both are signs that he is drawing more on the demon, using its healing powers and drawing the energy to do so from you.”

“I’m…” Angel suddenly sat up and shoved himself back so fast that Xander nearly fell on the floor. “I’m taking his energy?” The look of utter panic was all Angel, but Xander felt a warm fuzzy feeling that Angelus cared enough to not veto signs of sponateous love and concern.

“I’m tired, not dying.” Xander caught Angel’s arms and held on. For a moment, Angel froze as he and Angelus had some internal debate.

“All the literature suggests that this cannot hurt the consort. The power sharing is simply a way to transmit human energy without the need to feed, although the literature also suggests that feeding and sex are used by the master vampire to both strengthen the bond and to generate excess energy, which he can then use—”

“All of which doesn’t change the fact that consorts are a soddin’ myth,” Spike cut him off.

“They were,” Wesley agreed. “I have read a number of demon texts which consider the topic somewhat of a joke—a social commentary on the worthlessness of the Watcher’s research system.”

“Because they are a bloody joke,” Spike muttered, but Wesley didn’t even bother to get upset at the insult.

“However, the symptoms all fit, including the fact that Angel could go up against a hellgod and fight her single-handed for so long before backup could arrive.”

“The Gem of Amara—” Spike started to say.

Angel cut him off. “She broke it.”

Spike’s mouth fell open.

“She recognized the Gem and tore it off my hand before I realized what she was trying to do.” Angel’s jaw clenched as he made that admission. “I had to fight her without the gem.”

Spike stood up so fast that the sent the chair flying backwards where it slammed into the wall and crumbled into three uneven pieces. However, Spike ignored the mess as he pulled out a cigarette. “So, we lost our single biggest weapon. Good job with that Peaches. Do you want to do anything else to hamstring us? Ya want to give her our address?”

Before Xander could blink, he found himself carefully and quickly tossed to the top of the table before Angel lunged forward, caught Spike by the neck and drove him back into the wall so hard that several glasses on the counter fell over, one shattering as it rolled off the counter altogether.

“Enough,” Angel growled. Spike watched with yellow eyes, but he didn’t argue. “How exactly could Xander become a consort when I don’t know of any magic that could perform such a rite, and I did no spell?” Angel demanded as he turned his glare on Wesley.

“I… um… well, that is to say….” Wesley was saved from stuttering himself to death when Angel growled and then promptly turned into a giant Angel-statue.

The unspoken threat got the words to come out of Wesley, though. “We know that Anyanka has the power to create entire dimensions, new worlds with twisted rules to fit the curse she’s fulfilling for her client. We also know that Xander’s mother wished for Xander to find his equivalent of the fairy tale love story, the happily ever after.”

“And she thought turning me into a demon consort was the happy ending?” Xander asked as he slid off the table. He really did feel weak, but now that he really looked at Angel, he could see that the horribly broken arm had set and the worst of the gashes had closed. Without blood, and lots of it, Angel shouldn’t have been able to heal.

“For a demon, human frailty and the short lifespan are rather formidable obstacles to happiness. Perhaps she truly believed that you could only be happy if you had some way to overcome these human weaknesses.” Wesley grimaced. “Perhaps she was simply twisting the spell in order to get some revenge for being forced to fulfill a wish that ended with men being happy rather than eviscerated. I cannot comment on the motivations of a wish demon.”

“But it means that she spelled Xander,” Angel said. He took a step back from Spike, still watching with a nasty glare, but Spike stayed quiet. Unlike Harmony, Spike knew when to avoid Angelus’ temper. “And I’ve stolen his strength to heal.” Angel clenched his teeth as he looked over at Xander. Angel might have more of the demon’s temper, but clearly he’d kept all his own guilt.

“Actually, you share strength. Most of the time, that means he gets more strength from having this connection. However, when you’re injured….”

“I steal his strength,” Angel finished. “I willna do that.” Angel’s voice was soft and thick with guilt, but the Irish lilt suggested that Angel wasn’t the only one feeling that sentiment.

“Hey, I get to eat as much as I want without getting fat. This is a good thing,” Xander pointed out as he grabbed another piece of fried chicken. “Calories good.”

For the length of time it took Xander to blink, Angel had another of those statue moments. In a fraction of a second, it passed. “Call Harmony. I want high-calorie human foods over here now. Hot pizza, chocolate cake, anything with calories to help Xander recover. Then I want two humans from the suckhouse. Tell them they can have a master vampire, but they are not paying, and if they say one word I don’t like, I’ll kick them out of my house, and I won’t guarantee what shape they’ll be in when I do it,” Angel growled.

“But—” Xander shut his mouth so fast that his teeth clicked.

“Ye look like you’ve lost twenty pounds in a day,” Angel pointed out. Xander looked down and he realized that his pants were nearly falling off. That was seriously freaky. “I won’t have my consort starve for me.” Angel sounded way too Angelusy for Xander to argue the point.

“Wesley, call Harmony about the food. I’ll take care of the humans myself,” Spike said. “Sire.” With a tilt of his head toward Angel, Spike headed out of the kitchen. Xander could hear the front door open and slam.

“I’ll call her now,” Wesley said quietly as he inched toward the door to the living room.

“Wesley,” Angel said softly. He waited, and the silence was heavy enough to feel like a weight on Xander’s chest.

“Yes?” Wesley finally asked.

“Can this hurt Xander? Is there a way to fix it?”

Wesley sighed and seemed to gather his thoughts before answering. “If Anyanka used Watcher lore, then the change is permanent. The Watcher’s always questioned whether such a spell would damage the soul of the human, but other than the moral objections, there really is no downside for the human.”

“Other than the danger of losing his soul,” Angel said dryly.

“Hey, I am not about to lose my soul,” Xander objected. When he pushed away from the table, he could feel his legs wobble under him, but he walked over to Angel anyway. Once there, he punched Angel as hard as he could in the arm. “Look, first it was that I’d be corrupted if I hung around you, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t corrupt when I led the fight against the mayor. Then you tried saying that I would be corrupted if we slept together, but after we were sleeping together I fought off Wolfram and Hart and the strange Powers demons who wanted the happy-happy end of the world. Now you’re saying this consort thing is a danger to my soul. I think I’ve proved that my soul is a little tougher than you think. So you worry about your soul and I’ll worry about mine.” Xander gave Angel his nastiest glare. For a second, Angel just stared at him blankly, but then he started to smile.

Angel’s hand came up to rest against Xander’s cheek. “A’choi, you always have been my partner, haven’t you?”

“In demon fighting? Hell no. In being able to argue, yes,” Xander agreed. When Angel reached out and wrapped his arms around Xander, Xander just let himself be pulled into that strength. They’d get through this fine. Hell, there wasn’t even anything to get through, as far as Xander was concerned. This was a win-win. He could share Angel’s strength. They could feel each other’s pain. Now as long as Glorificus didn’t start torturing either of them, that was all good.

“Wesley, after you call Harmony, I need you to track someone down.”

“Oh?”

“Ben. He works at the hospital as a doctor or an intern. Finn might know more.”

“Why are we looking for him?” Wesley asked. Xander sighed. Yeah, this spell shit was getting old.

“With a spell affecting Xander, draining off his energy, we would like someone to look at him. I understand that Joyce has been ill. Maybe a doctor that looked at Joyce should look at Xander. However, keep security in mind and don’t give our location away,” Angel finished in a harsher tone.

“It’s likely that all Xander’s symptoms result from—”

“Wesley,” Angel said, cutting Wesley off with one exasperated word.

“I’ll check on him. Ben from the local hospital,” Wesley agreed. Angel’s arms still held Xander tightly, so Xander could only hear the footsteps as Wesley left them, a door closing in a distant part of the house.


	63. 63

Xander flexed his arms as he followed Angel down the corridor. He didn’t feel different, but he had certainly regained his missing weight quickly enough.

“Xander?” Angel asked quietly.

“Just wondering if I got any Justice League powers,” Xander whispered as a nurse passed them in the hall. Spike was setting up some heavy duty firepower near the morgue before paging Ben down to the lower level. As much as Xander didn’t like the idea of having a big hellgoddy fight in the middle of a hospital, he did understand tactically why Angel and Spike had chosen it.

“Stay behind me,” Angel said firmly. “If ye want to try out powers, you’ll do it some other time.”

“Oh, no. I have no interest in trying out any powers. I’ll just… I don’t know, try out any potential super strength on the oak corbels. Do you have any idea how tough those things are to carve, and I cannot find anything that matches the Hyperion’s architecture.”

Angel stopped in the middle of the hall to give Xander an odd look. Xander waited. Sometimes it took Angel a little longer to collect his thoughts these days. “You don’t want to fight? When Angelus… when I…” Angel froze.

Xander laid his hand on Angel’s arm. “I didn’t like getting left behind, but that doesn’t mean I need to be in the middle of the fight. Trust me, if I get to talk to you about any potential slaying and be slay-adjacent in case of full assaults and help out in emergencies, I’m happy. I’m even happier if I get to spend more time remodeling the hotel than fighting. We can’t all be fighters, you know,” Xander pointed out. He had hated the feeling of being trapped in a small space with Angelus. He’d hated knowing that he couldn’t stop Angelus from eating random people or doing some really freakily scary things to Watchers. Xander suspected that Giles was avoiding them because he’d heard those stories about the Watchers who had come to spy on Angelus. Unless Giles had seriously changed, Buffy and Riley were probably getting lectured about the foolishness of trusting vampires. Hopefully Riley had more self-esteem than Xander had at fifteen.

“You’re a good fighter,” Angel said.

“Yep, I am,” Xander agreed, “for a human. You and Spike are better. I can live with that.”

“As long as you know I trust you at my side,” Angel said firmly.

Xander laughed. “Okay, the soul so gave the demon shit about that, didn’t it?” Xander asked.

“Yes.” Angel sounded oddly determined about saying that.

“I always knew the demon loved me,” Xander said. “I knew it every time he looked at me, so if he made any mistakes, I always forgave him because he didn’t mean any harm,” Xander said. He didn’t point out that he had made the decision to kill Angelus right about the time Anyanka had shown up. “Besides, the demon is way scarier than the soul in a fight, so any fight the demon is leading, I probably want to be far, far fray-adjacent,” Xander admitted.

Angel didn’t answer, but he did slip an arm around Xander’s shoulders. Yep, the demon liked being called scarier, and the soul liked knowing Xander was happy. When Xander was in high school, being happy meant he had to be in the middle of the fight. Buffy and Willow with their attempts to push him toward safer ground had made him feel… well, like less of a man or less of a human or something. Maybe less powerful was the best way to put it. Now, now he didn’t mind all that much. After all, Angel was letting him come with them for the “kill-Ben” plan, even if he had threatened to chain Xander to a bed if he got too close to any fighting. So they trusted him to be part of the fight, even if it wasn’t the front line. Nope, Xander was cell-phone having, back-up calling man, and there wasn’t anything wrong with that.

They stopped in a deserted corner of the hall, right outside a stairwell. “You could wait here,” Angel said.

“I could, but I won’t,” Xander answered. From the look Angel gave him, Angel knew he was up to something, but Xander put on his sweetest smile. Now Angel looked even more worried.

“Stay behind me,” Angel warned again.

“Yep.”

“And stay out of the fight.”

“Yeppers.”

“And call Buffy if Glorificus appears.”

“Call, got it,” Xander agreed, happy that Angel ran out of orders. If he kept on long enough, he was sure it hit an order that Xander didn’t plan to follow. However, with a sigh, Angel headed down the stairwell, and Xander followed.

Spike should be set up by the elevators, so it was show time. The vampires planned to kill Ben without warning, but Xander had plans of his own. They weren’t good plans, but he didn’t worry about the strategy of things, only the morality of them. That was his job, along with reproducing period corbels. The others had their strengths, and Xander had his.

“He’s coming,” Angel whispered. The plan was for Spike to let Ben pass and then the two vampires would ambush Ben in the hall outside the morgue. If Ben managed to turn into Glory, Angel and Spike would hold her until Xander could call for backup or until Spike could pull out the machine gun he’d “borrowed” from Riley’s unit. Riley’s gun might not have taken Glorificus down, but it had slowed her.

Angel’s body tensed has he readied himself to leap out and try for the quick kill.

“Ben?” Xander shouted. The noise startled Angel so much that he actually stumbled into the open, and Xander pushed forward, taking advantage of that to reach the main hall, even though he did stay behind Angel. Ben stood in the middle of the hallway looking confused.

“Yes?” he asked unsteadily. “Do we know each other?”

“Um, yeah, we met last night,” Xander said, moving quickly while Angel was frozen in his internal battle. Xander figured Angelus was arguing for dragging Xander home and chaining him to something right now. Immediately. Screw Glorificus and the end of the world stuff.

“Last night?” Ben spoke slowly, but Xander could see the growing horror on Ben’s face. That answered one question. Ben knew there was something going on with him.

“Yeah, when your fun, fun other half tried to rip my arms off,” Xander said. Lots of expressions crossed Ben’s face: guilt, horror, fear, hatred. However, Xander didn’t see a whole lot of confusion.

“You know about Glorificus, don’t you?” Xander asked. Xander hadn’t vetoed the plan the vampires had come up with, but the fact was that he wouldn’t help kill some random, innocent person. He just wouldn’t. There were lines that shouldn’t be crossed and that was one of them. Unfortunately, Angel pulled himself out of his internal monolog long enough to step forward with a growl, blocking Xander’s view of Ben.

“You… you’re… but…” Ben spluttered a bit. Funny, a guy with a hell god in him really shouldn’t be shocked at vampires.

“Do you know how to stop her?” Xander asked. He looked around Angel’s wide shoulders, and Ben was backing away, shaking his head.

“You can’t.”

“Yes, we can,” Angel disagreed, but he wasn’t charging forward.

Ben kept shaking his head. “She’s too powerful. I try. I try to keep her inside, but she’s so powerful.”

“You don’t try hard enough then, mate,” Spike said as he came out of the room where he’d been hiding, cutting Ben off from the elevator. Spike shot Angel and Xander a confused look, but he backed the plan. Xander did love his vampires.

“You have to know what she’s doing,” Xander told Ben. “She’s sucking people’s brains out. She wants to rip open a hole to her own world, and if ripping a hole in the universe sounds like a good thing, you’re clearly not that bright. I thought doctors were supposed to be bright.”

“Do you think I don’t know how dangerous she is?” Ben demanded. “Even now, she wants to come out. I fight her every minute of every day.”

Xander could almost feel the tension rise as Ben made that admission. Okay, tactically it’d be good to get with the killing, but Xander… he had to see if there was another way.

“Tell us about her, about her power,” Xander urged. “Maybe we can get her out of you.”

“You can’t.” Ben’s voice rose to a near-shout. “If she comes out, my body will be torn to shreds. I’ll die. You have to believe that I’ve tried to figure a way to fix this. I became a doctor because I wanted a way to fix this.”

Spike gave a rough laugh. “You thought medical school would teach ya to get a hellgod out of your head? You really aren’t the brightest, are you?”

Ben scowled at Spike for a second before turning back toward Angel.

“I have a right to my life. You can’t blame me for what she does.”

“What about what you aren’t doing?” Xander asked.

Ben looked confused.

Keeping his hand on Angel’s arm, Xander stepped to the side so he could actually talk to Ben without having to stare at the back of Angel’s shoulders. “If I had a hellgod in me, someone who threatened the existence of the universe, I’d find the people fighting her, and I’d tell them everything I knew. I’d tell them where she goes and what she thinks. I’d tell them what it feels like when she takes over… I mean, is it cold? Can you see what she’s doing when she’s hijacking your body? Are you in the dark the whole time? All these are magical clues we might use to fight her.”

“I can’t fight her.”

“You may not be able to win, but you can fight, and I found that most of the time when I get in there and fight, I do better than I expected,” Xander pointed out. He wanted Ben to see that they were trying to help. He wanted Ben to give Angel and Spike one really good reason to not kill him.

“How often does she come out?” Angel asked.

Ben looked from Xander to Angel in clear panic.

“How long does it take her to recover her strength and get out again?” Angel repeated, stepping forward.

“You don’t understand. It’s not fair. I have a right to my life. I never asked to have her put inside me.”

“Life’s a bitch, mate, and that’s the same no matter who you are,” Spike said, joining in. “How much warning do you get before she comes out?”

Xander could almost taste Ben’s desperation now. He wanted to help them; Xander knew that. However, he needed a reason to believe they could win against Glorificus. “We beat one of the old ones, one of the old demons that ruled this world. We can beat her,” Xander promised, willing Ben to listen, to believe.

“No!” Ben shouted, “You can’t. You can’t beat her. I can’t beat her. Don’t you understand that? She’s stronger than all of us.”

“Not if we work together,” Xander tried reasoning with him even though he could almost feel the moment passing. Ben had almost sided with them, but now he pulled back. He wouldn’t risk himself, not even to save the world.

“I have a right to my life. You can’t blame me,” he said. He turned to rush at Spike or past Spike or something. He got two steps and Spike’s hands came up. With a sickening crack, bones snapped and Ben’s head twisted around so sharply that the skin of his neck folded and wrinkled like a shar pei’s. Xander sucked in a fast breath, and before he knew it, Xander felt himself wrapped up in Angel’s arms.

“Shhhh, m’fhear, you did your best. And we’ll talk later about you changing a plan in the middle.” Even though Angel promised unhappy talk later, his hands moved in soothing circles on Xander’s back.

“I thought we were just killing the bugger?” Spike asked, clearly confused. Xander could feel his body start to shake. He’d wanted to save Ben. He’d tried. He really had. But if someone wouldn’t be saved, they wouldn’t be saved.

“Xander changed the plan,” Angel said, his voice still soft.

“Why?” Spike’s lack of a soul was definitely showing through.

Xander squirmed around so he could lean back against Angel and talk to Spike, but as he did, he found his gaze falling on the twisted and bent body lying in a tangled heap of limbs. Ben. “He had a right to try and fight back,” Xander said softly as he looked at the body. If he got infested with something nasty and world endy, and face it, in their line of business, that wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility, Xander would want a chance to fight back.

“Against us?” Spike sounded utterly confused now.

Xander shook his head. “Against Glorificus.”

Spike gave a loud and disgusted snort. “He wasn’t the fighting sort, pet. He was more the sort to whinge about his lot in life.”

“And do nothing to protect people from the monster he had inside,” Xander agreed softly. “But at least that means we killed him for what he did, or what he didn’t do, not because someone shoved a hellgod in him.”

“There’s no ‘we’ there. I killed the hellgod.” Spike started smirking. “Slayer of slayers and now the executioner of hellgods. I like the bloody sound of that.”

“You killed a human doctor,” Angel said, and from the tone, he wasn’t nearly as amused. Xander looked up to find Angel still watching with this concerned expression. Xander ducked his head and leaned closer. This didn’t feel like the sort of victory that you’d cheer for, but it was a victory. The world was safe. That was good. And if Xander wasn’t feeling particularly good about it right now, that was okay too. Xander knew they’d done the right thing.

“He had a bloody hellgod in him.”

“Which you didn’t fight.”

“I did last night,” Spike pointed out, following as Angel urged Xander back toward the stairs. Xander wondered if they were going to just leave Ben in the middle of the hall. Most of the monster they fought had the good manners to vanish. Leaving a human body, a broken and twisted human body behind, felt wrong.

“And you didn’t beat her last night,” Angel said. The two of them kept bantering the whole way back to the main corridor. Spike said something about poetic license that led to a whole exchange about poetry that left Angel smirking and Spike fuming and Xander just confused. They were almost to the exit when Angel stopped.

The double doors opened, and Xander could see the starry night waiting for them, but Angel cocked his head and turned around to look down one of the other halls. “Angel?” Xander asked. Spike turned to look down the hall, and it took a couple of seconds, but then he started walking back into the hospital.

“I hear Buffy,” Angel said as he guided Xander in the same direction Spike had taken. “She’s crying.”

“Crying?” Xander’s heart dropped into his stomach. Dawn. Or Riley. Riley was human, so vampire-hunting was a dangerous job. Or Joyce had been looking really not good last time Xander had seen her. But she’d promised that the doctors said she was fine. Xander walked faster, nearly running as he followed Spike around little clusters of waiting families—crying children and weary mothers who all clung to the sides of the hallways as if they needed to lean against a wall to keep from falling down.

“Summers?” Spike asked as he got to a waiting room on the far end from the morgue access. He’d nearly called her ‘slayer,’ something which always made Buffy scowl and threaten to out his secret identity in public. Always. But this time she was nearly curled into Riley’s arms, crying so hard that she didn’t even bother sniping at Spike.

“Spike!” Dawn threw herself at Spike, nearly knocking him offer as she clung to him, her sobs loud enough to drown out Buffy’s.

“Buffy?” Xander asked, almost afraid to get an answer. Buffy didn’t even react.

“Joyce,” Riley said, his voice shaky.

“What about her?” Xander didn’t realize he was losing his balance until Angel caught his arm and pulled him closer. Xander waited for someone to say that something horrible had happened, like she’d had a stroke or a heart attack. He waited for them to say that she was clinging to life in ICU. All those things would be hugely bad, but there’d be this hope. He needed hope. However, Buffy and Dawn both just kept crying.

Spike sank into a hospital chair, pulling Dawn down with him, and she clung to him desperately.

“Oh God.” Xander felt his eyes burn with tears. “Oh God, no.” No one said anything.


	64. 64

Willow walked up to the shade of the tree where Angel and Xander stood. Spike was still inside the closest mausoleum, waiting until true nightfall, but the little bits of dappled light that drifted through the leaves weren’t enough to hurt Angel, not with the consort link to support him. “Xander,” she said softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for everyone.”

“You had Tara to take care of,” Xander answered. “It’s not your job to take care of everyone, Will. Just Tara.”

“Yeah, but…” Willow caught her lower lip between her teeth and looked over to where Buffy leaned against Riley. Her hair hung limply and she didn’t have a bit of makeup on, two things that definitely didn’t look right on Buffy. “I know I can’t fix this, but I should have been here. I should have noticed that Joyce was more sick than the doctors thought.”

“You couldn’t have,” Angel said. Angel hadn’t ever been much of a Willow fan, so Xander was a little surprised, but Angel reached out and caught her hand. “Jenny Giles, and probably Rupert too, have this idea that things can be fixed if you have the right book and the right spell. They can’t be, Willow.”

Willow blinked up at him, and Xander could almost taste her pain. She was the golden child of the group. Buffy had taken the job as the class screw-up, and Xander had class clown all sewn up, so if she wanted attention, she had to be perfect. Looking back, Xander figured he wasn’t even the one with the crappiest childhood or the most issues. He was just the one with the most therapy.

“After two hundred and fifty years, I can tell you this,” Angel offered, “I can’t stop bad things from happening. A demon curses the man I love, and I can’t do anything to undo it.”

Willow’s gaze bounced over to Xander, and she opened her mouth, most likely to offer to try and undo the curse.

“And you can’t do anything, either,” Angel said firmly. “Sometimes you have to trust or at least accept that the universe is bigger than you.”

Halfway through, Tara had come up behind Willow, wrapping an arm around Willow’s waist. “Wise words,” Tara offered in a quiet voice.

“It’s a hard lesson to learn, and one that took two more than two centuries for me to understand,” Angel said.

“If Spike were out here, he’d say that’s because you’re not a fast learner,” Xander pointed out. Angel gave Xander a mock glare before putting an arm around Xander’s shoulder and pulling him closer.

“Joyce always said something similar,” Tara said. She turned to watch the funeral guests walk by the coffin for the last time. “She said that as much as she never wanted Buffy to be the slayer that she had to trust that God had chosen her for good reason.”

Willow didn’t answer, but a tear slipped over her cheek.

“Blair says the same thing,” Xander said. “He says that people don’t have destinies, they have choices. But sometimes the universe doesn’t give you any choice other than throwing a fit like a two-year-old or accepting that the universe doesn’t revolve around us.”

“Blair sounds wise,” Tara offered.

“The wisest,” Xander agreed. “He’s the one who first made me really see that I was judging people around me using rules that didn’t actually make any sense. But I wonder if he’d say the same thing if he really knew Joyce. She didn’t deserve….”

“No one deserves to die,” Tara said. The minister walked over to Buffy and all of them fell silent while the minister offered some words. Dawn had abandoned the grave side service to hide in the mausoleum with Spike, so it was just Buffy, Riley and the minister as the last of the guests wandered away. The sun was starting to slip below the horizon and the first of the stars were out in the blue-gray sky.

“We should offer to take in Dawn,” Angel said.

Xander frowned and looked up at him. “Buffy will want Dawn with her.”

Angel nodded. “Until Dawn’s anger makes her start striking out. She’s Dawn’s sister, and Dawn needs her sister to fight with and grieve with. Being her mother is going to be a lot harder.”

“And you think we’d do any better?” Xander asked. He knew he didn’t know how to handle a grieving teenager, no matter how much he loved her. And he was pretty sure the same was true of the rest of them, too. Spike had actually gotten banned from the Summers’ home because he’d taught Dawn how to pick locks, and Dawn had invaded her sister’s diary. Actually, that’s how Dawn figured out about the slaying stuff, although at the time she’d shown up at Angel’s apartment clutching the diary, sure her sister was psychotic.

“I think Cordelia could handle it,” Angel said. “But now is a time for grieving. We can offer later.”

Maybe there was some silent signal Xander missed because Tara and Willow started wandering toward the road where they’d all parked. They were going to all meet at the Summers’ house later, but Xander could feel fatigue pull at him. Maybe it was the strain of the consort link as he supported Angel who was busy not getting turned into a big pile of ash or maybe it was just one too many emotional hits in too short of a time, but he felt like he could sleep for about a month.

“You’re oddly more aware of people’s feelings,” Xander accused Angel. Angel’s arms came around Xander’s stomach as Angel pulled him close.

“The demon can smell emotions that linger on the skin. He can understand anger and resentment and revenge and weakness. He can’t read Willow’s face or see that she has strength under the weakness. He can smell power and vulnerability, but he can’t understand the love there.”

“And the soul?”

Angel sighed. “The soul can read a face and understand the pain and the guilt and the joy of being human. But he isn’t any better at reading people. He still finds himself surprised when people act like demons with no souls or when a soulless demon finds the strength to love.”

“I thought it was the demon who hated Spike’s habit of falling in love,” Xander pointed out.

“He does,” Angel agreed, “but he understands it. The soul can’t understand that love is something that comes from the soul and the being. The soul loves you because you don’t surprise him. You may make bad choices from time to time....”

“Like interrupting your assassination plan?” Xander asked.

“Yes.” Angel’s voice was utterly flat as he said that, which usually meant he was trying to not show some emotion from one side or the other. The flat voice was a definite improvement over the long periods of being locked in his own body.

“And why does the demon love me?” Xander asked.

Angel took longer to think about that. “Because you are utterly his,” he finally answered. “The Powers, Wolfram and Hart, the slayer, your parents, even Father Peter… they all tried to take you away, and you belonged utterly to us the whole time.”

“It takes strength to command that sort of loyalty,” Xander guessed.

“And strength to command it from someone who is so strong,” Angel agreed. “Some days I wonder how you ever decided to fall in love with me.”

Xander thought back over the years as he watched the minister leave. Buffy and Riley leaned into each other. “You respected me,” Xander started slowly. “Even when you thought I was wrong like back when I wanted to follow Buffy to the Master’s lair, you respected me. And you were a little afraid of me.”

“I was afraid of your movies,” Angel corrected him with a growl.

“Oh,” Xander said knowingly. Angel could say that now, but looking back, Xander could see that Angel had been afraid of facing the world and all the messy moral choices that Xander dragged into Angel’s life. “And I was all about not knowing who I was, and you let me be someone I liked.”

“I did?” Angel sounded confused.

“Yeah,” Xander said with a shrug. “You were the big, strong, scary dude I taught how to use a cell phone, and because you needed me for something, it didn’t feel as totally emasculating when you had to show me how to hold a sword without cutting off my own ear. And you were so good at fighting that when you could kick my ass that was okay too because you can pretty much kick anyone’s ass.” Xander sighed. “Do you think Joyce and Hank ever had anything that good?” Xander thought about how she said that Hank had loved her without respecting her, and he doubted it. Angel didn’t answer.

“I really hope that Buffy and Riley have something that good,” Xander said softly as he watched Buffy pull away from Riley to land on her knees beside Joyce’s casket. Riley was right there next to her, holding her as she leaned against the polished wood. In the distance, several soldiers watched from a respectful distance, but Xander could see their grief too. These were the men and women who had become part of Buffy’s life, and Xander was guessing some of Joyce’s cookies had made their way back to the soldiers. Joyce had a way of doing that, of reminding people that she appreciated that her daughter never had to deal with her destiny alone.

“I think they do.” Angel sighed. “I was so sure that Riley and Spike would turn on each other, that they would act like vampire lieutenants. I was equally sure that Riley would be too human, that he wouldn’t allow Buffy to follow the demon instincts that give her the strength to survive.”

“So, you think you were wrong?”

Angel took his time answering. “Looking at him with both the soul and the demon, yes. I think I was wrong,” Angel admitted. Xander nodded. Angel really was better with people now that he wasn’t trying so hard to ignore the demon that he pretty much ignored any knowledge Angelus had, even when it was right. And honestly, the demon understood people better than the soul. The soul spent most of his life avoiding people. The demon had learned to mimic humanity, to understand it and hunt it. The demon might be immoral and sadistic, but it was a smart sort of immoral and sadistic.

“Joyce would have liked knowing that Riley had your seal of approval,” Xander said softly.

“I wish I had told her.”

“I wish I had told her a lot of things.”

Angel didn’t answer. Xander watched as Riley helped Buffy back to her feet before he went to go offer his condolences; however, Angel held him back. Xander turned and frowned at Angel, but Angel just nodded toward the shade of another tree. The light was fading fast, and it took Xander several seconds to see Giles standing there. He looked old and tired. Then again, life hadn’t exactly treated him well. His slayer didn’t need him, his Watcher group had pretty much left him twisting in the wind by refusing to help with Glorificus, his wife had betrayed him, and the Buffy had turned to the Scourge of Europe, or at least the male half of it, when she needed help. As far as a Watcher went, Xander was pretty sure that went in the “loss” column.

Giles slowly walked to Buffy’s side, his hands twitched as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Buffy turned from the coffin and caught Giles in a hug so hard that Xander could hear Giles’ “uf” from their spot under the tree. Riley stood awkwardly to the side, watching as Giles and Buffy held each other tightly. Xander wasn’t sure what they were saying, but Angel urged him forward.

Xander crossed the damp grass, swallowing as he looked at Joyce’s closed casket. The cemetery workers were standing near some equipment, clearing anxious to get the casket in the ground before something Hellmouthy could happen, but this was one woman who wouldn’t rise from her grave. Joyce had earned her rest.

“I’m so sorry,” Xander could hear Giles muttering over and over as he held onto Buffy. Given that slayers normally lasted a year or two, Xander figured that either Giles was way better at loving someone than most Watchers, or there had to be a whole lot of sad and broken Watchers out there. It was killing Giles that he hadn’t been able to protect Buffy from her mother’s death, so Xander was pretty sure it would really kill him if he failed to protect Buffy from demons.

“Angel. Xander,” Riley greeted them. Giles pulled away from Buffy, and Xander could almost see him try to pull himself together in front of them. It made Xander sad that their lives were so separate that Giles couldn’t grieve in front of them. But then, Giles really had been the one person Xander couldn’t seem to really get past his problems with. As he grew up, he understood Giles more, but something in his friendship with Angel had destroyed any respect between them, and Xander couldn’t accept a relationship without respect.

“Hey. Thanks for coming,” Buffy said weakly. She wasn’t holding up well, but luckily they didn’t have a hellgod to worry about, and the soldiers could handle any slaying.

“Buff. I’m so sorry,” Xander said. Opening his arms, he offered a hug. She took it, but there was a distance between them that he couldn’t bridge. After he had given her one squeeze, she was already pulling back.

“Joyce was a good woman,” Angel offered. “I know she’s happy now.”

Giles looked away, but Buffy looked at Angel, tears welling in her eyes.

“Thank you,” Riley offered for her. “We know she’s in heaven.”

Angel nodded. “I’m sure she is.” For a second there was an awkward silence. It wasn’t hostile, but Xander realized that they really didn’t have much to say to each other anymore. “The spell that… when I lost my soul,” Angel started, awkwardly. He stopped, and Xander could almost hear the soul and demon debating about what to say. Xander was actually pretty proud that Angel hadn’t gone off on Giles about his idiot wife… or ex-wife. Xander wasn’t sure where they stood, now that he thought about it. Angel sighed. “When I came back, I knew that this world was so dark, so terrifying that I have to believe that the place I had been was much better, much safer,” Angel said, his words still slow and awkward. “I knew that, and I knew who I loved. I never stopped loving my family. I know Joyce is the same. She’ll always love you.”

Buffy stared at Angel, tears rolling down her face, one after another.

“Thank you,” Riley said. “She was a grand woman, and I know she’s watching from heaven.”

Angel gave Riley and Buffy a nod before turning, his hand on Xander’s back urging Xander back toward the cars.

They walked through the darkening cemetery, the smell of freshly turned dirt reminding Xander of vampires and high school. “That was beautiful,” Xander said softly.

“The demon would have rather avoided the conversation,” Angel admitted.

“It was a kind gesture,” Xander said, and that would explain why the demon had wanted to avoid it. “Is Spike coming?” Xander asked.

“He’s staying with Dawn. Buffy’s in no shape to keep an eye on her, and Riley is too focused on Buffy.”

“Oh.” They reached the car and Xander got in on the passenger side, waiting as Angel walked around to the driver’s door. Angel got in. “Oh, shit,” Xander suddenly exclaimed.

“Xander?” Angel’s hand fell on his waistband where he kept a weapon.

“Dawn.”

“Dawn?”

“Dawn,” Xander said louder. “We thought Dawn was Glory because she wasn’t real, or she hadn’t always been Dawn, or something. We’re leaving Spike with Dawn when Dawn is probably not Dawn.” Xander could have kicked himself. How did he let that detail slip past him? Seriously, there was a reason he wasn’t one of the frontline fighters. He sucked at keeping track of the enemy, not that Dawn was an enemy, or even a potential enemy. Probably.

“She thinks she’s Dawn,” Angel said firmly. “Wesley cast an honesty spell. Apparently she’s been lying about attending classes, something Buffy will discover eventually, but she believes she’s Dawn Summers.”

“But….” Xander was back to being confused.

“If you were a magic user, and you wanted to guarantee that no one ever found you, how can you prevent yourself from calling an old friend or using a familiar spell?” Angel pulled away from the curb.

“Wait… you think Dawn thinks she’s Dawn? So she wiped her own memories, her own personality?”

Angel took a deep breath. “Whoever she used to be, now she’s Dawn Summers. She’s Buffy’s sister. She’s Joyce’s youngest daughter. Unless the spell used to create the memories has a time limit, that’s all she is.”

Xander frowned. It made sense in a demonic sort of way. Demons and witches sometimes took things a little too far. However, Xander was a consort, Spike was a vampire who found a way to still love people, Angel was a demon and a soul shoved in one body, Faith was half abused child and half terrifying warrior princess, and Cordelia was… well, Cordelia. Dawn actually fit in with them better than Graham. “Okay,” Xander said with a shrug. “We’ve dealt with stranger.”

“Yes,” Angel agreed, “we have.”


	65. The end... until the next disaster/adventure

“Home sweet bloody home. The first hotel guest ta bother me gets put on the menu,” Spike complained loudly as he went through the doors to the Hyperion. Angel noticed, however, that Spike’s loose-limbed walk and the way he headed straight for Cordelia had a completely different message.

Angel briefly juggled competing thoughts. Cordelia was terrifying. Agreed. Cordelia was family. Vehement disagreement. If she were family, she’d try to rule. But she wouldn’t rule. She wasn’t a vampire, and she wouldn’t challenge the hierarchy. But she often acted as if she did rule. Angel kept walking with his arm over Xander’s shoulders until he finally decided to simply accept that Cordelia was. If she ever got turned, he would either stake her or move to Tibet, but until then, she was powerful and beautiful and his. And as long as he didn’t push his ownership too far, she would remain his.

“You’re back!” There was a flash of joy, of relief and longing, before Cordelia’s more stoic expression of habitual boredom returned. “You just wanted to avoid having to put things right in the house again. Seriously, Angel, if you ever want to go soulless again, just set the place on fire. It’d be easier to clean up.” If she was publicly complaining, Angel thought he had little to fear. Were she truly angry, she’d get him in private and show him pie charts.

“Hey, no setting the place on fire. This place is a landmark. Do you have any idea the history in these walls?” Xander demanded.

Cordelia gave him a dirty look. “Do you have any idea what sort of messes the minions left in all the corners?”

Xander grimaced.

“Oh! I do!” Harmony sang out as she trailed in at the back of the pack. “I told them you’d make them pay. I did.” Harmony said it as she passed them with an armful of sheets and a basket of something Angel still couldn’t identify. It smelled like the aisle in the grocery store with all the boxes that said “Tide” even though nothing smelled of the ocean.

“At least someone was threatening them. Really, Angel, when minions make that sort of mess, feel free to stake them,” Cordelia said with a huff. “Only not Amber and Jarod. There will be no staking of either of them. They are my minions, and with all the messes around here, we cannot afford to lose any more help. Got it?” Cordelia pointed a finger at Angel, and he stopped and searched his memory. He couldn’t come up with any faces.

“Amber is the older vampire with the beautiful white hair, and Jarod has the dreamiest eyes,” Harmony offered. Jarod didn’t sound familiar, but Angel vaguely remembered Amber. She’d been turned far too old, and her long white hair was starting to thin. Some vampire probably made a mistake when feeding or he was looking for a decoy to get him in some place that an older woman could get access to. Angel flinched as he thought of some vampire creating a minion just to get access to a nursing home. The soul quailed under the horror of the idea, and the demon sneered at the weakness of any demon that hunted at such a place.

“We kept them?” Angel asked, not sure how to feel about that.

“They’re both really hard workers,” Harmony said before she backed through the door into the service hall that led to kitchens and work rooms. “And they hated the suckhouses. Those places suck.” And she was gone, right in the middle of Xander opening his mouth. Given the opportunity, Xander rarely passed up the chance to make a suck joke…. At least he hadn’t when he’d been with Angel before the soul-ripping. Angel liked seeing that side of Xander return.

“They are hard workers,” Cordelia agreed. “If my cheerleaders had worked half as hard, we would have been national champs, but no, they were always worried more about getting some boy’s attention. Priorities, people. Why does no one have priorities?” Cordelia asked. Spike had practically wound himself around her body, and he watched her with undisguised love.

Angelus would have hated that expression. The demon still did feel the stirrings of disgust at a vampire offering such devotion to a human, but the soul understood it. Angel looked down, and Xander watched Spike and Cordelia fondly, at least until he noticed Angel, and then he looked up, a question in his expression. However, even confused, Xander still exuded love. Angel had hurt him, hurt his friends, taken him prisoner, and terrorized him, and Xander still loved him. Angel suspected that Xander would have eventually staked him if the soul hadn’t returned to balance out the demon, but for a vampire, loving and destroying weren’t mutually exclusive terms. He could live with that.

“Hey, you’re back,” Faith called from the top of the stairs. She came bounding down. “How’d the god-killing go?” Angel watched her controlled power and the slight tilt of her head as she unconsciously bared her neck to him.

“We killed him. Her,” Xander corrected himself. “Well, sort of a him-her.”

“Kinky,” Faith offered with a wink.

“Not as much as you’d think.” Xander’s voice had that edge to it, the one that the soul had always hated because he couldn’t understand it. The demon could see the pain more easily. If pushed on the point, if tortured with it, Xander’s guilt about killing Ben could rip his psyche apart. Once the demon might have used that, but now he gathered up his knowledge in order to defend his consort from the danger.

“A human host knew he was carrying a world-ending demon, and he refused to even try to fight her,” Angel said, defining the event to make sure that everyone in his clan knew that Xander carried no blame for the death.

“And then the git tried pushing his way past me to escape.” Spike’s expression made it clear that he considered such an individual too stupid to either live or worry about killing.

“As long as the world won’t end before I get the books back in order, that’s fine,” Cordelia said with a half-glare for Angel.

“I willna do paperwork. That was your job, and you weren’t here,” Angel said, the demon’s aggravation slipping out before the soul could really mitigate it. However, Cordelia seemed unfazed.

“Well, next time, I’m not budging from this desk. I mean, the raiding fund is looking… amazingly healthy,” Cordelia admitted, “but I can’t tell who stayed in what room, and someone has to pay for a completely ruined queen bed in 402. Oh, and Xander, there’s now a swimming pool in the basement.”

“What?” Xander’s voice rose to a truly alarming screech. “Who broke a pipe? Do you people have any idea how much structural damage water can do? Especially to an older building? I told people to not hit those pipes.” Xander’s voice rose.

“Not that, you idiot,” Cordelia cut him off. Instead of getting offended, Xander just stopped and looked at her in confusion. “It turns out we have another basement level, and Lorne’s witchy ladies had to do some spelling to clean out something slimy that I was not going to get near, but apparently we really do have an actual swimming pool down there that someone sealed off. Do you have any idea how much more money we can charge with those sorts of facilities? Xander, I’ve set aside about sixty thousand for you to get the second basement in order so we can start opening it up for guests.”

“Sixty thousand?” Xander’s voice was dazed, and Angel gave him a quick squeeze before he headed over to Faith. He needed to touch her, to just feel her and know she was really his. When he walked over, Faith smiled at him as Angel rested a hand on her arm for a moment.

“What? Not enough?” Cordelia asked.

“If you want the pipes fixed before the whole place falls down, no,” Xander said firmly. “Plumbing is expensive, and I’m not licensed to do it. That’s why I was threatening people instead of just fixing the pipes.”

“How much?”

“Probably a hundred and twenty thousand, maybe more.”

“For pipes?” Cordelia’s shriek rose up through the hotel and on the second floor, a door opened and slammed.

“Hey, pipes are expensive.”

“I could by a half-dozen cars for that much. Good cars.”

“Yeah, or one set up upgraded pipes that aren’t going to burst and compromise the foundation when the water soaks into the ground through all those cracks.”

Cordelia sighed and gave Xander a nasty glare, but Xander crossed his arms and glared right back. Angel could see that Xander had won this round. Considering how much raiding the demon had done, they could afford the cost.

“Hey, welcome home!” Graham appeared at the top of the staircase. His arm was strapped to his body, but he looked surprisingly healthy. “Everyone accounted for?” He started down the steps, and his careful navigation of the steps made Angel reconsider that assessment. Graham was definitely still seriously injured, but at least he was healing.

“Oi, are you suggesting we can’t take one little hell-god?” Spike demanded in an offended tone.

“Of course not. I’m sure you can single-handedly save the world from demons, terrorists, and narco-criminals with one hand tied behind your back,” Graham offered. Spike gave a little growl, but it didn’t sound very threatening. Clearly Graham thought the same because he smirked wider.

“Just wait ‘til that heals,” Spike threatened with a nod toward Graham’s shoulder. “We’ll see if you’re mouthing off then.”

“Oh trust me, I won’t be,” Graham assured him. “You can kill hell-gods and kick my ass very effectively, and I plan to enjoy this brief respite from your ability to prove that on a daily basis. However, when the shoulder heals, I know you’ll be proving it all over again.”

“Bloody right,” Spike agreed, only a little mollified. Cordelia watched him fondly, and Spike seemed to bridle a bit. “Killed that hell-god myself, no help from Captain Hairgel.” Spike looked over toward Angel.

Angel’s demon rose and he growled at Spike. Spike’s own eyes flashed yellow. Since Angel had woken up with the soul back in place, he hadn’t had time for Spike. They’d gone from disaster to disaster and Angel could feel the need to reaffirm that connection. His growl grew deeper and he showed a bit of fang. Spike was his and if the boy wanted to be disrespectful, he’d have to pay with blood.

“Maybe the vampire sex can wait until after all the books are moved back into the library,” Xander suggested. “Geez, you’d think you two were sex deprived or something.” He rolled his eyes, and Angel could feel that emotional dissonance roll through him again. He should be monogamous to Xander. No. He shouldn’t. He loved Xander, but he needed Spike. He could break and bite with Spike. Breaking and biting weren’t love. They were ownership. Ownership wasn’t love. Love was owning something totally and completely. Angel let the feelings wash through him as he looked from Xander to Cordelia, measuring how the humans felt about their vampire lovers’ lack of monogamy.

Cordelia picked up a pen and busied herself with some papers. “Ladies don’t discuss such matters,” she said archly. “But if I weren’t a lady, I would say there’s little chance of that.”

“No joke,” Xander agreed. “But there is no way in hell that I’m carrying all the books while they have sex. Not unless someone wants to go for a good long time without getting any sex out of me.” Xander turned toward the door.

“Is that a threat?” Angel asked as he stalked toward Xander. His boy would not be making threats. His boy was playing with him. Both realities swept through him, and these two thoughts fit well within one brain.

Xander turned and eyed Angel before slowly backing away. “I don’t know. Which answer will get the books carried in for me?”

“Books? You’re worried about books?” Angel asked, stalking closer.

Xander was smiling now. “Um… maybe,” he said.

“Oh good lord, just ask him to jump on you,” Wesley said, but it was a fond tone, not one that the demon needed to correct or the soul minded.

Faith and Graham both laughed as Angel caught Xander, capturing him in a tight embrace. “Books?” he demanded. “Ye care more for the carrying of books than me?”

“Hey, I never said that. I was more about caring about the carrying of books first, not more,” Xander protested, his arms going around Angel. The demon approved of the game, the chance to have his boy submit. The soul whispered of limits and caution. It also worried about guilt and shame and others seeing, but as Xander smelled of contentment, Angel let that fear slide to the background. Other feelings, possession and lust, slipped forward. Without warning, he could feel reality shift as love and need surged through, overshadowing the possession and lust for a moment before the two sets of feelings settled.

“Um, Angel, are we going to move?” Xander asked, and Angel realized he’d been holding Xander for several minutes.

“You’re warm and comfortable,” Angel pointed out, holding on for a few more seconds before he backed away.

“Angel, you okay?” Faith had moved closer, and she looked a little worried. It occurred to Angel that she had dealt with the soul and then later the demon, but he had left before finding a way for both to interact with the world. She’d never dealt with his new reality.

“I’m fine,” Angel promised. “Different, but that is not necessarily bad.” He frowned as he heard a scraping, and then the outer door to the Hyperion came open… fast. Angel thrust Xander behind him, and took up a defensive position. Spike leaped out from behind the desk, and Angel distantly noted that both Faith and Graham retreated to the weapons cabinet. Within a split second, the easy camaraderie and family tone vanished to reveal a battle-ready group.

“There you are.” Anyanka burst into the lobby, her human face on, and Angel could feel panic claw at his chest. She couldn’t take his Xander or his soul. He wouldna let her. However, she didn’t attack or go into her demon visage. She didn’t threaten, and as the air drifted through the lobby, Angel realized that her smell had changed.

“What do you want?” Angel snarled, his fangs out. Spike circled around to the right, and Anyanka spared him one look before focusing on Angel.

“He broke my necklace! That pasty, pompous, self-serving little quat broke my necklace!”

Angel frowned, not sure if he was misunderstanding or if she was simply a very confusing woman. Most everyone looked as confused as he was, everyone except Wesley.

“Oh dear.” Wesley had retreated to the wall, but now he stepped forward. “Some texts theorize that a vengeance demon’s power is in the necklace given to him or her by the full demon—”

“D’Hoffren,” Anyanka snapped. “D’Hoffren gives you the necklace, and you get to be a demon, but now that little pimple on the butt of the universe broke my necklace.”

“So, he broke all the spells you’ve cast?” Angel reached out for Xander, feeling the need to touch his consort. If Anyanka’s spell were broken, would Xander be mortal again?

Anyanka gave a mighty sigh and took a second to glare at Angel. “Of course it doesn’t end all my spells. I have entire universes out there. I created one universe without shrimp! Universes don’t just end. But he broke the spell I cast on him. And I’m not a demon anymore! How dare he take away my hard-earned rights. Do you have any idea how good I am at being a demon? D’Hoffren never had anyone half as good as me. I cursed a soul out of the heavenly dimensions. Beat that!”

Spike stepped closer. “I’ll eat you, and then I’ll be the bloke that ate the demon who cursed a soul out of heaven,” he warned. Angel could feel his demon and soul preen at the evidence of Spike’s loyalty.

“You wouldn’t.” Anyanka looked over at Spike in horror. “You’re a man, of course you would. Men have no appreciation or respect. I mean, I fixed things so that Angel and Xander were happy, and I even fixed Xander’s humanity problem, and do I get any thanks? No. Do you know how few happy men I’ve left behind me in the wake of my spells? Do you? Two.” She pointed at Angel and Xander, and Angel growled a warning and stepped in front of Xander. “Men are generally not happy when they have to eat their own genitals, but I made you two happy, and now you’re threatening to kill me just because I’m not a demon and I can’t shrink your testicles. That is so like a man.”

“Hey, we didn’t threaten to kill anyone,” Xander protested, but Angel noted that Xander did his protesting from a spot just behind Angel. That was fine. Angel could defend his consort, although if Anyanka were telling the truth about being human, she didn’t pose much of a threat.

“You don’t even care that a slimy, insecure, intellectually inferior little worm has betrayed women who trusted him, who loved him! Oh no, he gets to condemn women to hell dimensions. He can send women to some slave world where they’ll be called cows and get beaten, but he’s a man, so that’s okay. This is why I hate men. They’re all the same.” Anyanka looked truly frightening, and if she were still a demon, Angel would have called retreat the best part of any strategy. However, she wasn’t a demon. She was just confusing.

Angel frowned as he looked over to Spike and then back at Xander to see if it was just him, but they both looked equally flummoxed by the flood of words.

“Is someone sending women to hell worlds?” Angel asked, not entirely sure he’d picked out the most important part of the rant. He forced his demon features away and took a cautious step closer to Anyanka. “If someone is hurting innocent women, we’ll help them.”

“We will?” Spike sounded even more confused, but Angel ignored him. His own demon grumbled, but remained largely silent. Rescuing women held no interest for the demon, but fighting demons could be fun. The demon then sent of a brief flare—a vivid warning that it would walk into the sun if Angel offered to rescue even one puppy.

“We will,” Angel said firmly, ignoring his sudden urge to toss a puppy into traffic. The demon would not get its way on that one.

“Of course we will,” Xander said enthusiastically. He came to stand beside Angel, but when Angel took a step forward to keep himself between Xander and Anyanka, Xander kept to his place. Even if Anyanka didn’t have her demonic powers, she was an angry and vengeful woman with a thousand years of experience. That was a terrifying though.

“Hey, I’m in. If someone’s set up their own little slave trade, I say we kick ass,” Faith agreed.

Graham strode across the room, passing Angel and Xander as he held out his hand for Anyanka. Perhaps it was uncharitable, but Angel allowed Graham to put himself at risk, more willing to have Graham in that position than Xander. However, Anyanka shook his hand solemnly. “Graham Miller, ma’am. I’ve never seen anyone in this room put up with a bully.” Graham glanced over at Spike, “at least not one that does real harm to innocents.”

Angel figured Graham still didn’t understand Spike that well. He had no doubt that Spike would cheerfully bully any innocent who didn’t happen to be family, but Angel felt no need to explain that.

“Well, these women are innocents,” Anyanka said as she looked around. “This scientist befriends women, mentors them, even sleeps with them, before stealing their ideas and throwing them in a portal to a hell world. I would have wished him into the body of a woman from the fifth century, a very pregnant slave woman, but had magical traps ready. I can’t believe that after a thousand years, I fell for some man’s trap.”

“If it’s a portal, we’ll need to set up stable transportation to and from this other world,” Wesley said.

“And supplies,” Cordelia added. “You people never remember to take the right supplies.”

“As long as I have a sword, I’m happy,” Spike offered.

“Says the man who doesn’t need food or water,” Cordelia pointed out. “For humans, travel requires a little more planning. And you may not need a soft bed, but face it, you’re a cranky mess when you have to sleep somewhere hard.”

“Exactly, that’s just like men. They never stop and really think through their actions,” Anyanka said enthusiastically, and Angel stepped back, horror growing as he watched the two women smile at each other. Okay, new mission, help Anyanka as fast as possible and get her away from Cordelia before they either formed a friendship or killed each other. Soul and demon were in agreement that both options were equally likely.

“I’m not sure I’d agree with that,” Graham said softly, but Angel noticed that he was retreating back to Faith’s side.

Angel looked around his hotel. The signs of Angelus were gone. The minions cleaned out, the court finery gone, the throne torn out. Cordelia’s computer beeped on the counter as she looked something up. Part of him wanted to go back to being the small lord of his tiny manor. The soul had stayed as unobtrusive as possible in the hopes of not attracting enemies. The demon reveled in the fact that Anyanka had come to him, seeing that as a sign of respect. Angel could feel both needs pull at him. He could see his court already scrambling to respond to the newest threat. He could feel the world turn again, and he could almost feel one of Blair’s choices pressing close.

Angel could have a small life. Angel could choose a large life. Angel could define his own world, and for the first time in two hundred and fifty years, he felt free to do exactly that. Free and confused.

“Angel?” Xander asked softly. “Are we going after this guy?” Xander looked up at him, and Angel knew what answer Xander wanted. He could hear the others grow still as they waited for him to make a choice. Angel reached up to rest his hand against Xander’s cheek.

“Are you ready for this battle so soon?”

“Hell, yes,” Xander said. “I mean, he’s enslaving women to steal their science homework. He’s enslaving them after sleeping with them, and for women sex usually involves promises of love and fidelity, and promising that when you plan on throwing them in a slave pit is… if it’s not rape, it’s close enough that I can’t see the difference. That’s slaying sort of slimy.”

Angel nodded. He did trust Xander to make a moral choice in the matter. If Xander said the human had to die, he did.

“Only, maybe we can just make him suffer, not kill him,” Xander added a half second after Angel had come to terms with the idea of killing the human. Souled, unsouled, demon or not, life still sometimes confused Angel, and Xander could exacerbate that confusion without even trying.

“We can decide on an action later. First we get some rest and secure the lair and collect information on the enemy,” Angel said, exchanging a look with Spike. Spike grinned widely. Even if Spike didn’t care much about saving damsels in distress, he did love playing lieutenant and torturing information out of flunkies. “Then we stop him,” Angel said firmly.

“And rescue the women,” Cordelia added.

“Which will require the portal transportation spells, as I explained,” Wesley pointed out.

Angel left the rest of them to discuss the details. This was just one more adventure, and Angel was coming to believe their life in LA would be one disaster or adventure after another. One of the perks of being head of the clan was that he didn’t have to sit through arguments about who should do what. They would sort it out for themselves or Cordelia and Spike would sort it out, but he wanted to spend time with his consort.

Angel guided Xander toward the stairs while the others were debating whether supplies or portal spells were more vital. Faith smirked at them, and Angel gave her a hard glare. She just laughed, which made Graham look over in confusion. Faith eased over to his side and whispered something in his ear that made Graham turn brilliant red. Life wasn’t perfect. Jenny was still out there, and Angel really didn’t want an ex-vengeance demon claiming some sort of favors from him, but on balance, life was good. He had his kin and his clan and his soul.

Half way up the stairs, Xander turned and gave Angel a wink before racing up the rest of the stairs toward their second floor suite. Yes, life was very good. Angel raced after his consort, demon and soul both agreeing about what he should do when he caught him.


End file.
